


The Other Half of Me

by Four9s



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama and Romance, Fluff, Harry Potter is Not the Boy-Who-Lived, Horcruxes, Horcruxes aren't easily destroyed, M/M, Manipulative Dumbledore but not really bad, Master of Death Harry Potter, Neville is the Boy-Who-Lived, OoCNeville, Possessive Tom Riddle, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Tom knows love but he forgot about it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-06-05 04:25:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15162632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Four9s/pseuds/Four9s
Summary: “You won’t let go of me, will you?” Harold whispered, coming in short breaths as his green eyes glistened with unshed tears. And all the while his friend, his lover held his dying body amidst the chaos of war and destruction that surrounded them. Tom held him tighter; a failed attempt to delay the inevitable death of his only loved one.“Never.” Tom’s voice cracked. “We vowed forever, remember?” But it was too late, Harold Pantiel stared back at him with unseeing eyes and a content smile. Tom Riddle screamed.Two souls were torn apart by the hands of death and time. One was left with a path of immortality at the cost of his own soul and the other transcended from the threads of time, reborn as the other’s prophesied enemy. But when Fate decided to give a chance to regain what they should have had and let their paths cross again, it forever changed the course of their destiny and the world’s.





	1. A Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its universe. This amazing series belongs to J.K Rowling.

_It was a beautiful peaceful night when Harry first met him._

_It was one of those nights when he snuck out of bed out of Ravenclaw Tower, exploring the ancient rooms and halls of Hogwarts. He made sure to bring with him his invisibility cloak so that he wouldn’t be caught. Hogwarts was home and it was infinitely so much better than being with the Dursleys._

_He was about to go to the Astronomy Tower when there along the hallways of Hogwarts stood another student. He looked like he was in his sixth year and with those green and silver robes he wore he was obviously in Slytherin but Harry hadn’t seen him anywhere before. The student was staring outside the window while the moon illuminated his features. He had dark brown curly hair with matching dark brown eyes, aristocratic features, tall cheek bones, perfectly-shaped jawline and pale white skin. He was the handsomest man Harry had ever seen and Harry wondered why he did not notice him before. But then he observed that there was something weird and off about him, he was blurry around the edges and he was somewhat transparent._

_“So aren’t you going to introduce yourself? It’s rude to stare you know.”_

_Harry was brought out of his notions when the student spoke. His voice was a deep baritone and it was strangely comforting. Harry wondered how the student knew he was being watched considering Harry was under his invisibility cloak. Knowing that he was caught and hoping that the handsome man wouldn’t rat him out to his professors, he removed the cloak on himself, headed towards him and offered a shy smile. Standing beside him, the student obviously towered over Harry._

_“I’m sorry. It’s just that I didn’t expect another student to be lurking around the castle at night. I’m Harry Potter.”_

_The student stared at him, raising an elegant eyebrow before smiling charmingly._

_“I’m Tom. Tom Riddle.”_

_Tom didn’t hold out his hand. Seeing him closer now he could see that Tom really is transparent and it was kind of silly to see that his uniform was also quite different, still Slytherin but not the latest uniform in Hogwarts that Harry have seen Draco and other Slytherins wore. Tom must’ve been a student here once but not anymore._

_“Are you a ghost?”_

_Tom looked amused when he saw that Harry’s emerald eyes sparkled with interest. It would be fun having a ghost friend not like Peeves and other ghosts that roam around the castle. Maybe Tom could talk about his time in Hogwarts and what lessons he had before. What happened to him? How did he become a ghost? What adventures or discoveries did he find while being a ghost at Hogwarts? But Tom only shook his head._

_“No. I’m a memory. Preserved for fifty years and it was just until recently that I escaped the prison I was held in but now that it’s destroyed, I’ll slowly disappear.”_

_Harry felt sad for Tom. Harry already felt scared and suffocated being locked up inside his cupboard for a day, imagine being imprisoned for fifty years. But now when Tom just got free he’ll only just disappear. Tom smiled sadly at him and he looked like he’d already accepted his fate. And Harry wanted to help him, even though they just met Harry felt a strange connection with Tom he can’t explain. And is not helping others the right thing?_

_“Is there some way to prevent that from happening?”_

_Harry blurted out the question that was running through his head. Tom was silent for a few minutes eyeing Harry up and down and Harry was about to take back what he said thinking he might have offended Tom. But before he could talk and apologize Tom answered._

_“Yes. I need to anchor myself with a vessel. It could be anything, a book, a mirror, even a person. It’s a very complex sort of magic that isn’t actually permitted by the Ministry.”_

_Harry was quite shocked at this information, he never would have thought that someone would attempt a magic that was forbidden. Whoever Tom was fifty years ago, he must have researched very hard for it (without notice) or he must be one of the most intelligent students Hogwarts have ever had. He even eluded the Ministry.  Harry hesitated, not only because it would mean he would be breaking the law but he has no confidence that he’ll be powerful enough to perform what magic Tom was talking about especially on his first try. Well it couldn’t hurt that much could it? He was already breaking a few dozen rules at Hogwarts and maybe Tom can do it, using Harry’s magic._

_“Can you do it? Even in this form?” Harry asked looking at Tom with glistening Avada Kedavra eyes._

_Tom’s eyes gleamed a second but it went unnoticed by Harry._

_“Yes. I can. But I’ll need the assistance of another’s magical core supply which by manipulating so is already highly dangerous and illegal. If done recklessly I can accidentally maim it to the point where the wizard or witch can never again use his or her magic. And in my current state I can only cast it once.”_

_Tom looked away from Harry and continued to stare outside the window. Harry thought that no one should ever have their magic maimed by reckless manipulation and he understands why the Ministry would ban such practice but if this done properly he can help Tom._

_Harry followed his gaze curious to see what Tom was looking at. He saw the Forbidden Forest and the Black Lake reflecting the night sky. It was beautiful. It might’ve looked better from the Astonomy Tower though._

_Tom and Harry fell into comfortable silence until Harry said._

_“I want to help. It’s weird, I just got this feeling I don’t want you to disappear.”_

_He stated honestly._

_“Neither do I want to disappear Harry. But are you sure you want to?”_

_Harry nodded his head eyes filled with determination and Tom stared right back at him with a serious impression._

_Harry was just your average wizard, albeit an intelligent one and that is why he was put into Ravenclaw. Harry is always curious, the first time he knew he had magic he searched and read every bit of magical information he could find, he spent hours in the Hogwarts Library just to learn magic. He wanted to read the books in the Restricted Section but his conscience would always hinder him from doing so. Truthfully he got bored with the repeated information and he craved new knowledge on Dark, Grey and Light Magic alike but he wasn’t successful so far._

_And now Tom was here. Maybe after Harry helped Tom he could ask Tom about magic in his time, they’d talk, argue, and debate or something. It was strange. It was like he’d known Tom for ages and as if this was not their first meeting. Like Tom has always been a part of Harry’s life._

_“Thank you, Harry.”_

_Tom smiled gently at him before holding out his hands. Harry looked at Tom before reaching for his hands and intertwining them with Tom’s. Tom then began glowing mysteriously and Harry didn’t know what was happening, Tom didn’t even utter a single spell nor did he have any wand but before Harry could ask Tom dipped his head down and gently kissed Harry’s forehead and Harry felt warmth surround him, like Harry’s own soul was singing. It was one of the most amazing things he had ever felt, his eyes became droopy lulled by this experience. It felt like this wasn’t the first time and it felt like he had found home again but before he could ask Tom, the next thing he knew there was darkness._

_Tom stared at the sleeping boy in his arms. He had successfully attached himself to Harry’s soul with the help of Harry’s magic and it was enough for him to gain a steady corporeal form. Tom smiled and ruffled the soft clumps of raven hair._

_“You never change. You were always the naïve one, but that’s just one of the things that made you special to me. And now you’re here with me, I won’t ever let you go again.”_

_Tom Riddle’s eyes gleamed in possessiveness and want._

_“Harold.”_

* * *

Ever since he was 4 years old Harry dreamt.

He dreamt of an orphanage with dark walls and tall steel gates, a dull dark room with two beds, a strict scary woman, mean children with worn-out clothes, scarce food with too little grain, an odd red-haired professor with a long beard, and a cold winter day. Harry couldn’t say it was a nice dream but it wasn’t too bad either, because within these dreams Harry often saw a little boy with faint smiles hidden by a badly sewn scarf.

In these dreams Harry always knew the little boy, they talked, argued, read, slept, and even took care of a small snake within the confines of their room. They were always together. Other children avoided them like the plague and the adults ignored them as if they didn’t exist, it wasn’t perfect but Harry felt happy because he had this little boy with him. The boy can do things Harry can’t, he can talk to snakes, he can make things disappear and appear, he can make things fly, he can do amazing fits. Simply put, he can do magic and this was their most hidden secret.

Strangely enough even if he had the same dreams every night Harry would wake up and Harry wouldn’t be able to remember the boy’s face, what he sounded like, and what his name was. He couldn’t even remember what they talked about, the boy’s figure would always blur and his voice would drown in the deepest part of his mind. Harry only knew that this boy was the only one he cared about and the person whom his world revolved around.

Harry found it weird and strange. How could he care about someone he hadn’t even met? Someone he couldn’t even remember. Often times when he was young locked inside the confines of the cupboard under the stairs Harry wished that he could meet this boy in real life, maybe he wasn’t the only one experiencing this and the boy in the dream was someone real, he’d take Harry away from his abusive relatives and just like in his dreams they’d be together. But this simple wish only remained a dream. A silly dream made by a silly lonely orphaned child that depended on someone that didn’t even exist. It never came true, and it never will.

So Harry stopped dreaming. Dreams are for sleeping, people had to wake up and face the reality.

All Harry can do now is, do his best at Hogwarts and graduate with suitable grades for a good job at the Ministry, and then he can escape the Dursleys forever. Harry still dreamt of the boy in the orphanage, he still held the care for him. But what use is caring for someone in a dream? Harry didn’t have any more hopes for the dream to come true or induce himself in any more of his childhood fantasies.

He locked and concealed these feelings in the deepest corners of his heart, it hurt too much.

* * *

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED._

_ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE_

Harry frowned when he saw the message written on the wall. It’s apparently written in Mr. Filch’s cat’s blood and Harry felt pity for the intelligent animal. Mrs. Norris always did catch him every time while on his Hogwarts escapades, fortunately even if the cat sensed him Mr Filch didn’t. Too bad the culprit didn’t even spare the poor animal and now Mr. Filch is screeching at Neville’s face in behalf of his beloved cat.

“You!” He pointed at Neville. “You! You murdered my cat! You killed her! I’ll kill you! I’ll--”

Mr. Filtch was about to grab Neville but Professor Dumbledore’s voice stopped him from touching Neville.

“Argus!”

Professor Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Neville, Ron, and Hermione and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

“Come with me, Argus,” he said to Filch. “You, too, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger.”

 Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

 “My office is nearest, Headmaster — just upstairs — please feel free —”

 “Thank you, Gilderoy,” said Dumbledore.

 The crowd along with Harry parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape. When their silhouettes disappeared the crowd dispersed and students hurriedly went to their own dormitories. Beside Harry, Terry Boot grumbled it was obvious that he wanted to see more of the writing on the wall and get a glimpse of another one of the Boy-Who-Lived’s adventures.

“What do you think Harry? Neville, Ron, and Hermione are always the first get into trouble but in the end they get to experience solving mysteries. Especially what happened last year, when You-Know-Who got defeated by Neville again. It’s tough being the Wizarding World’s Saviour.”

“I wouldn’t want to be caught up in that mess Terry. Fighting Dark Lords isn’t really my cup of tea, I think it is unfair for Neville to shoulder the responsibilities of saving the world, he’s a child and shouldn’t the adults be the one to take care of it? Instead their pushing their responsibilities and hopes on a child who defeated a Dark Lord with unknown means when he was a toddler.” Harry replied.

Terry smiled and carried on talking as if he didn’t hear what Harry said.

“By the way what is the Chamber of Secrets? Do you know anything about it? And what’s with the entire ‘enemies of the heir beware’ thing? Whoever wrote that stuff up has a good sense of rhyme. Kinda like a riddle or something.”

Harry rolled his eyes as they began climbing up the staircase leading to Ravenclaw Tower along with other Ravenclaw students, some of them looked at him and turned away their heads, hoping to gossip about the writing on the wall while others were quite terrified by the warning. Harry never did get along well with his peers, they never got too close and Harry never got too close either, Terry along with Michael and Anthony were probably the only ones close enough to be called his friends. Still Harry found Terry annoying sometimes with all his Neville worship but Harry had to admit he was also curious about the Chamber of Secrets.

“I don’t really know much about it but from what I read, the Chamber of Secrets is a mythical chamber built by Salazar Slytherin to doom all muggleborns but other than that nothing else.”

Harry read about the Chamber of Secrets on a book entitled, ‘ _Magicke Legends, Myths, and Stories Disbelieved_ ’ The book was written by an author not really well known and was well hidden in the library that no one noticed it. The book didn’t really reveal relevant information about Hogwarts’ secrets that Harry was hoping to know at that time but it did reveal legends about its founders and one was the Chamber of Secrets. It speculated that the chamber might have been built around the time where witch and wizard hunting were rampant and it was for the protection of the magical children in the school, and since muggleborns came from non-wizarding families they were persecuted. It was not really helpful and was full of rubbish theory so Harry never got interested on finding it until tonight.

“Well, we might hear about it again tomorrow.”

They reached the door to the Ravenclaw Dormitory and it looked like some of the Ravenclaw students found it hard to answer the riddle the door had asked and was waiting for others to be able to answer it. Harry and Terry approached Anthony who was currently in front of the door trying to figure out the answer. When Anthony saw the both of them he smiled.

“Hey Harry, Terry, would you help us answer the riddle? Everyone really can’t decipher it even the older years find it hard.”

Harry nodded his head and the door repeated the riddle.

**_A treasure one holds that time stole_ **

**_Returned again when one beholds_ **

**_It may be everything, it may be nothing,_ **

**_It is the end and it is the beginning._ **

Even Terry found it hard to answer but to Harry he found the riddle quite easy, maybe he had heard of the riddle before.

“A memory.” Harry answered.

The door clicked open and everyone was surprised. Harry ignored the surprised gasps of others and headed straight to his bed along with the dumbfounded Terry and Anthony.

“Hey mate, how did you answer the riddle so easily? It must’ve been one of the most difficult riddles to answer.” Terry asked.

“Yeah, even the seventh years couldn’t answer it correctly.” Anthony added.

Harry changed his clothes while also pondering on the same thing, the answer just popped into his mind.

“I don’t really know either.”

Terry and Anthony wasn’t really satisfied with Harry’s answer but paid no more attention knowing Harry didn’t like answering more questions when he had already given his answer. They also changed into their sleeping clothes and headed to bed. Harry laid on his bed and decided not to sneak out of the dorms tonight. He was tired and he’ll need all the energy tomorrow for his lessons ignoring his budding curiosity for the Chamber of Secrets. Even if he did want to know about the Chamber it would do him no good since the Golden Trio was already part of this and nothing is good for Harry getting involved deeply with them. Harry closed his eyes and slept.

* * *

_They sat on Tom’s bed inside their room. Tom had just gotten back from Hogwarts and he was staying at Wool’s for the summer, it made Harold sad that he can’t stay with Tom at Hogwarts. He didn’t have any magic and to Tom’s kind they refer people without magic ‘muggles’. Wizards and witches prohibit muggles from ever going there. It was lonely without Tom, he wrote letters but it can’t compare to have Tom with him._

_“So how was Hogwarts this year?”_

_Tom smirked at him and there was an excited gleam in his eyes._

_“It’s fine Harold, there were many information and topics to learn but nothing I can’t cope with. Professor Dumbledore favouring the Gryffindors as always, he always had this suspicious gaze at me but there’s always nothing that he can prove I’ve done something wrong.”_

_Harold laughed._

_“Any new discoveries?”_

_“Do you remember what I wrote to you about my heritage? I know you don’t care about whether I am a muggleborn, a half-blood, or a pureblood and I appreciate it that way and you’re truly the only person I’d ever cherish but to know my own background is also important to me.” Tom sighed and Harry continued to listen._

_“I just found out at the end of this year that I’m Salazar Slytherin’s descendant through my mother’s line and he has left me an amazing inheritance.”_

_“That’s great Tom! So what about this inheritance?” Harold grinned happy for Tom._

_“It’s called the Chamber of Secrets. It’s built somewhere inside Hogwarts I’m planning on searching for it starting this September.”_

* * *

“Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets,” said Hermione in a clear voice.

It was their History of Magic class that Gryffindors and Ravenclaws share and it was the most boring class in Harry’s opinion. Harry doesn’t have any problem with the subject and he actually enjoys history but the one who is currently teaching, Professor Binns is a ghost who didn’t notice he was already dead. And the way he goes on and on about Goblin Wars was enough to give Harry a headache. So naturally, when Hermione asked the question that has been hovering inside the minds of the students since last night, Harry was also intrigued to know and stopped his doodling.

Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance and Lavender Brown’s head came up off her arms.

Professor Binns blinked.

“My subject is History of Magic,” he said in his dry, wheezy voice. “I deal with _facts_ , Miss Granger, not myths and legends.” He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk slipping and continued, “In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers —”

He stuttered to a halt. Hermione’s hand was waving in the air again.

“Miss Grant?”

“Please, sir, don’t legends always have a basis in fact?”

Professor Binns was looking at her in such amazement, Harry was sure no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead.

“Well,” said Professor Binns slowly, “yes, one could argue that, I suppose.” He peered at Hermione as though he had never seen a student properly before. “However, the legend of which you speak is such a very _sensational_ , even _ludicrous_ tale —”

But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns’s every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his. Harry could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.

“Oh, very well,” he said slowly. “Let me see… the Chamber of Secrets…”

“You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago — the precise date is uncertain — by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution.”

He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued.

“For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more _selective_ about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school.”

Professor Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.

“Reliable historical sources tell us this much,” he said. “But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing.

“Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic.”

There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn’t the usual, sleepy silence that filled Professor Binns’s classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed.

“The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course,” he said. “Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible.”

Hermione’s hand was back in the air.

“Sir — what exactly do you mean by the ‘horror within’ the Chamber?”

“That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control,” said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice.

The class exchanged nervous looks.

“I tell you, the thing does not exist,” said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. “There is no Chamber and no monster.”

“But, sir,” said Seamus Finnigan, “if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin’s true heir, no one else _would_ be able to find it, would they?”

“Nonsense, O’Flaherty,” said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. “If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven’t found the thing —”

“But, Professor,” piped up Parvati Patil, “you’d probably have to use Dark Magic to open it —”

“Just because a wizard _doesn’t_ use Dark Magic doesn’t mean he _can’t_ , Miss Pennyfeather,” snapped Professor Binns. “I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore —”

“But maybe you’ve got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn’t —” began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had had enough.

“That will do,” he said sharply. “It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to _history_ , to solid, believable, verifiable _fact_!”

And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor.

Harry glanced at the Golden Trio and wasn’t surprised that they were already speculating about the chamber and Salazar Slytherin’s heir. Harry was also curious to who might be Salazar’s heir, he’s got a feeling that even if there is no evidence that the chamber exists or no one has ever found it, what Finnigan said does have a point. Only the heir would be able to find it. Whatever Professor Binns told the class about the chamber was helpful but to Harry it wasn’t enough to know anything really substantial.

Harry has better things to do anyway and thoughts about the chamber will only distract him. He ignored the feeling of déjà vu as if he had heard someone talk about the chamber before.

* * *

Several months passed and more accidents took place.

Muggleborns were petrified, Neville broke his arm from a rogue bludger, the roosters were killed, and Hogwarts was in verge of closing. It made Harry worried. If Hogwarts was to close then where will he be in? Hogwarts was his only home at the moment and he absolutely refuse to remain at the Dursleys. Harry could only wish that the Golden Trio would be able to solve this in time. They might not be close to him but the fate of the school rests on them.  

What shocked him and the whole school though was that Neville was a parselmouth. He talked to a snake in front of the whole duelling club with the conjured snake by Draco Malfoy. It gave the whole school a fright and a nagging suspicion that Neville might be the Heir of Slytherin as Salazar Slytherin was very well-known from this ability and was thought that only his descendants would be able to inherit Parseltongue. Neville could talk to snakes which should be logically impossible because he was not Slytherin’s descendant, and checking at the Longbottom’s lineage it didn’t connect to any of the well-known families that descended from Slytherin like the Gaunts and Peverells. Neville was ostracized for this ability for a few weeks and Harry thought of those who could ever think about Neville in such a way stupid. It’s just an ability, and from what Harry has seen of Neville so far is that he was a good person. How could he be the done to do all those things that hurt others?

Then Harry remembered that the boy in his dreams could also talk to snakes. Could it be a coincidence? Was the boy in his dreams real? And if so was the boy in the dream the heir everyone was talking about?  These made the feelings buried within Harry ignite and a sense of hope grow but Harry squashed those feelings. It was impossible and it made no sense.

Maybe Neville was lucky to be born with those innate powers, after all there were those warlocks and witches with rare talent that could talk to animals maybe it was just the same as them.

A few days later Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater got petrified.

Harry sat on the Ravenclaw table and glanced at the Gryffindor table. Harry observed that Neville was worried along with Ron, who could blame them? It was quite strange to not see the Golden Trio complete especially when Hermione’s not around. Some of the Gryffindor wore faces of distrust and suspicion and others were of confusion. They might have second thoughts of their early suspicions because it was clear that Neville would never inflict harm on Hermione.

It was not the only scene worth paying attention on. Beside Lavender, Ginny Weasley was also acting strange and she was pale. The girl has been crushing on Neville and it might have been such a huge blow on her that her Valentine gift for Neville wasn’t well-received. But from her looks, it might have been from a complete different matter, it didn’t look like she was having a good bedtime sleep and suffering from disappointed couldn’t have reduce her into such state. She was skittish as if she was suffering from PTSD.

Other than observing, Harry did not meddle with any more of the ‘Chamber of Secrets’ affair. He spent his days as usual at the library and even with the new curfew schedule, Harry wasn’t worried because he had his cloak.

Harry waited until the situation was solved by itself and it did.

Two weeks before the end of the term Harry heard the rumours that Neville had saved Ginny Weasley from the Chamber of Secrets. Because of Hermione’s research they discovered that the monster in the chamber was a basilisk and only a person with the ability of Parseltongue would be able to open the chamber, Neville duelled with the apparent ‘Heir of Slytherin’ who was Lord Voldemort himself in his teenage years. The muggleborns and Mrs. Norris that was petrified was cured and everything went back to usual. Hogwarts didn’t close down and once again Neville and his friends saved the day again.

* * *

It was the last night at Hogwarts before summer when Harry decided to explore Hogwarts again. Taking his cloak and exiting the Ravenclaw dormitory, heading out to the Astronomy Tower to gaze upon the stars.

And along the way he met a boy named Tom Riddle.


	2. A Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to express my heartfelt thanks to of those who gave their kudos, commented, subscribed, and bookmarked. It gave me the motivation to continue to the next chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

If there was one thing to be said about being stuck in a diary for fifty years, it was hell.

Half of Tom Riddle’s soul was doomed to repeatedly behold all his memories written in the diary up until he had split his soul. He was plagued by the numerous memories that caused him heartache, grief, anger, sadness, regret, disappointment, gladness, excitement, warmth. A chaos of both negative and positive emotions that threatened to spill out but were blocked by an intangible wall that was in the form of his magic in the guise of a diary, it served as a prison.

Lord Voldemort disregarded his own soul; he threw away his ability to feel such emotions because he couldn’t handle the pain. He reasoned that it was a necessary sacrifice to gain immortality but the truth was he wanted the pain to stop, to stop feeling altogether. He locked away every bit of ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’ until what was left of him was only half in which he named after an anagram of his own name ‘I am Lord Voldemort’. He sought after power because he didn’t want to experience what true ‘powerlessness’ was again, what true ‘death’ was again.

Lord Voldemort buried every memory and every promise he held dear once upon a time, especially the one that hurt him the most. The memory of the only person he ever loved.

Harold Julian Pantiel.

Many magical-beings had theorized that one that was conceived through a love potion wouldn’t be able to feel or know love but in Tom’s case it didn’t appear so. Even as a being with no extraordinary talent, no magic to speak off, Harold had done what others deemed impossible.

He made Tom feel, know, and experience love.

The thing that he detested above all was weakness and as a young boy before he met Harold, feelings such as care, guilt, and empathy was alien to him, things that he didn’t understand. But reality was cruel, Fate decided he should experience it himself and what did it do to him. Love made and unmade him.

Tom carried the sleeping boy in his arms, both of them concealed under the invisibility cloak. He headed for Ravenclaw Tower, from the colour of the boy’s robes he was currently in that house. Tom had every nook of the castle memorized in his head and it is with ease that he avoided every part that might trigger the alarm of wandering professors and prefects.

While at last, Tom had regained a tangible corporeal form that allowed him to roam around with freedom, it was with an insufficient amount of his magic and was but simply a shareholder of Harry’s magical core supply at the moment. But it was only a matter of time when he would reunite with the other half of his soul or pieces of his soul and by then he would be powerful enough to fulfil the life he had promised for himself and for the person currently snuggling on his chest. He never once looked away from its angelic face.

Harry Potter is the perfect copy of Harold Pantiel.

They held the same green eyes that gleamed like the Killing Curse, the same curly lump of raven hair, same luscious lips, same face, same smile, and even the same unique beauty.

They have the exact same soul.

The only difference from now and then is that Harry Potter held magic of his own while Harold Pantiel held not one bit of magic.

Tom still couldn’t believe what had transpired until now.

After battling with Neville Longbottom down the Chamber of Secrets which ended up with his own failure of not only defeating Longbottom who according to the silly girl was fated to defeat him and failure of consuming Ginny Weasley’s soul to regain corporeal form, but also the failure of saving his pet and saving the one magic that while held him prisoner also protected him.

The diary was stabbed by a basilik’s fang dripping with its venom. The horcrux, the vessel of his soul was at the very point of its demise and while he gained freedom from its inevitable destruction Tom knew he will disappear without a trace if he wasn’t able to anchor his soul to another vessel. He quickly escaped using the tiny bit of magic left by the diary before Longbottom noticed that something was amiss.

A horcrux wasn’t easily destroyed after all but the soul that contained within it is, and thankfully the soul survived and the vessel didn’t.

But Tom knew with the miniscule magic he had left, he won’t be able to anchor himself with anything without the help of another wizard or witch’s magic. He didn’t want to accept that this was what he would only amount to but he didn’t have any choice but to prepare himself, he was going to disappear, bitter of it all.

Tom didn’t expect that the person who ruined him would also be the one to bring about his salvation.

He sensed the soul of another approaching and was shocked of how infinitely familiar it is. He felt the soul that reminded him of his worst and his best moments in life, the soul of the person he couldn’t save, but what was different is that this soul held magic. Tom, who dabbled with magic regarding the soul, had thought he was only imagining things but the senses couldn’t mistake it. This person held Harold’s soul. Noticing that it didn’t move any further, Tom tested his theory and called out. The person removed his invisibility cloak and while Tom expected the results it didn’t make it less surprising.

He stared back at the face of his childhood friend, and later his lover.

Tom wanted to immediately hug and kiss him. Make sure that he was real and not only a memory. But what held him back was that he was afraid that if he were to touch him, he’d disappear, that if he were to hold him tightly again, he’d leave. And while it is true Harry had the same soul as Harold, they didn’t have the same memories. Harry Potter knew nothing of his past life but Tom would eagerly remind him of it.

He’d build his friendship with Harry again until he could find a way for Harry to regain his memories.

Using his charms, he easily gained the consent of Harry Potter to use his magic. It resulted in an easier way to attach all of him to Harry’s soul, Harry becoming the new horcrux, in place of the diary. But this time the horcux wouldn’t be able to restrict him. The process obviously took its toll on the boy and he fell asleep.

Tom approached the door to the Ravenclaw Common Room, the door sensing a person was standing in front of it uttered a riddle.

**_The gift of life that death aims to take_ **

**_Some they cherish, some they forsake_ **

**_It lives in trickery and in truth_ **

**_Birthed by the emotions of one’s youth_ **

Tom answered the riddle easily.

“A soul.”

* * *

Harry would have considered what happened that night a dream if it wasn’t for the letter written by one Tom Riddle placed on top of his stomach the moment he woke up staring at the familiar blue and bronze ceiling of the Ravenclaw Common Room. At first he was confused as to what had happened last night as he didn’t even remember coming back to Ravenclaw Tower but then the memories came rushing back. Harry blushed red when he remembered Tom had kissed his forehead in a very affectionate manner. He shook his head, trying to shake off this unexpected feeling.

Harry held the simple letter and in it, written in elegant writing, Harry read Tom’s message.

>   _Dearest Harry,_
> 
> _I am exceedingly grateful for what you have done for me._
> 
> _It is because of you that I have gained freedom again, and there are no more words I can say than to tell you I am forever in your debt. As much as I want to stay with you, I have important things to do first. I need to create a new identity for myself, familiarize with the Wizarding World again as I had not seen it for years. There is so much to learn, so much to discover._
> 
> _Once I have deemed myself ready and knowledgeable enough, I will come back for you._
> 
> _Along with this letter, you’ll find a very miniscule piece of jewellery, an earring. If you ever want to talk with me or have the need of someone to listen, please feel free to only rub it and I’ll answer. It is a magical way of communication that helps connect our minds without the knowledge of others. A very simple yet useful magic I have created myself._
> 
> _Do not inform anyone of our meeting or our current relation. I fear that if anyone would get a hold of information about me, or worse, a chance where you might encounter my enemies before, they might bring you harm. I think it is best that we keep this as a secret for the time-being._
> 
> _Take care of yourself._
> 
> _Yours Truly,_
> 
> _Tom Marvolo Riddle_

After Harry read the letter, it bursted in to flames and not a single piece of parchment was left but a single silver piece of earring. Harry immediately attached it to his earlobe, hid it by his raven locks and resisted the urge to rub it. While it made Harry sad that Tom didn’t stay with him, he understood his reasons. If Harry were in Tom’s shoes he would’ve done the same thing and if that wasn’t the case, how would he explain to anyone if they discovered about Tom?  Anyways Harry whole-heartedly agrees that what he and Tom had now was to be kept a secret, not only because of what Tom reasoned but also because Harry honestly doesn’t want to share Tom.

Now when did he get this possessive?

Harry sighed.

A few seconds later, Anthony came rushing down looking disheveled, the worried expression on his face was replaced by relief when he came face-to-face with Harry.

“Harry! Where have you gone off to?! You made me worry mate, when I saw that your bed was empty and you hadn’t packed your things yet – you really have to by the way or you’re going to be late- I thought you disappeared!” Anthony exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that.. last night… I was er hoping to read in the library but .. you know .. curfew?  So instead I ended up reading late at night here in the Common Room? I must have fallen asleep.” Harry reasoned but even to his own ears it sounded like he was hiding something. Anthony rolled his eyes.

“You’re a terrible liar Harry, all of us know that you’ve been sneaking out at night since last year. We never talked to anyone about it since you never get caught.” Behind Anthony, Michael appeared yawning. He looked absolutely unsurprised when Harry’s eyes widened with shock, when he saw that Harry was about to make excuses or reason out again, Michael just grinned. It was kind of cute when Harry would show a different side to him other than the bored and excited with new learning expression.

“I-It’s not that I don’t trust you guys b-but- why didn’t you ever tell me?“

“Don’t stress with the details mate, we know you like Hogwarts. It’s big and to you it must be the only thing you consider home.”

“Yeah. But really Harry, you should practice making up stories when you get caught. Seeing as you’re still wearing your uniform and you don’t have a book anywhere near you it’s clear you’re doing anything but reading. And the way you reason sounded like you were asking a question rather than making a statement.” Terry followed behind Michael. Harry looked at Terry with a deadpan gaze as if saying ‘you’re not a good liar either’ then the four of them bursted out laughing.

“Seriously, don’t get caught. We wouldn’t want any more points going to Gryffindors and Slytherins and losing house points isn’t going to help us win the House Cup.” Anthony said and Harry nodded his head in response. Harry gave them one last smile before he immediately went back to his dorm. Harry wouldn’t want anyone but his friends to catch him sneaking out at night, they understood but besides them, Harry doubts other Ravenclaws would have the same level of understanding. Others wouldn’t hesitate to report this matter to his professors.

With a bit of magic; Harry took out his wand and non-verbally casted the ‘Packing Charm’ and his things were instantly organized inside his trunk. He changed into his muggle clothing and cleaned himself before going downstairs to meet with his friends who were unsurprisingly already carrying their trunks.

They boarded the train and Harry gazed solemnly at Hogwarts before it disappeared upon the horizon.

* * *

_Harold sat under the tree rooted at the edge of the garden. The tall tree looked like it would wither soon but it still gave Harold the comfort of Tom’s presence even if Tom was still currently at Hogwarts. The tree held special meaning to Harold because it was in this exact same place when Tom promised that he’d take Harold away soon and show him the Wizarding World. Even if it was against the law, Tom would find a way for Harold to stay._

_After reading the last letter Tom wrote, he tucked the letter away inside his pocket. It’s been lonely and hard for Harold these years when Tom would leave Wool’s to attend school far from him. It made him miss the days when they were younger and he would have Tom all for himself._

_“Hey Panties, I mean Pantiel! Are you still reading about how our dear Tommy is doing this year? I bet no amount of medicine would cure that freak, he’s not even going to school I bet. He’s crazy and he’s probably inside some kind of mental institution, only the adults are masking it to some kind of ‘boarding school.’” Billy Stubbs exclaimed and smiled at him cruelly._

_Harold glared. He wouldn’t have minded if they insulted him but when they insulted Tom, it was a completely different matter._

_“Shut up, Stubbs. You don’t know **anything**. Maybe the one who should be confined inside a mental asylum is you, after all repeating the same silly nicknames and insults calls for an area of concern. I fear that your brain lacks the ability to come up with something more creative. A severe case of lacking a brain stem perhaps?”_

_Billy flushed in embarrassment._

_“Well I wonder why the orphanage still keeps you around. You should’ve been with Riddle to whatever place he’s going to, both freaks, both friendless, both utterly disgustingly gay for each other. Yuck. You both deserve to be in a mental hospital.”_

_“For a person who wet his pants when Tom threatened him, you sure have the guts to talk ill of him when he’s not around. What would he do when he hears about this?” Harold narrowed his eyes._

_Billy paled, gritting his teeth in anger._

_“You’re like this now because you have Riddle, Pantiel. But without him you’re nothing, he doesn’t need you.” Billy then turned his back and stomped his feet while walking away._

_Harold gripped the simple silver earring he wore, the other was with Tom. They didn’t have the money to buy rings but fortunately enough, some people donated a pair of earrings at the orphanage and Tom and Harold immediately seized it before anyone could. The earrings meant that they would always be connected, wherever they are. To others, it might be trash but to Harold the earring was his treasure._

_Harold always felt insecure and lacking compared to Tom. The handsome boy was clever, powerful, and he has magic. So unlike dirty ugly muggle Harold with no power whatsoever. Harold’s parents abandoned him because he was illegitimate and he was simply unwanted. What Billy said about him felt too true._

_“I know.”_

* * *

Petunia Dursley neé Evans regretted many things.

She regretted meeting Severus Snape, she regretted writing that blasted letter to Albus Dumbledore to accept her to study at Hogwarts, and she regretted that she envied her sister who was both beautiful and magical. She felt so insecure that it got to the point where she began hating magic and anything, anyone associated with magic. When she was younger she loved it when her younger sister would show her magic tricks but right now she could only feel disdain.

She was normal, and normality became her motto, her life. She married a husband who loved her and they had a son. They were supposed to be the picture of a perfectly normal family until one Harry Potter was dumped into her arms one night.

The greatest regret of all was taking in her nephew.

“Aunt Petunia, I was wondering if you would sign this permission slip for me.  Its school stuff.” Harry stoically asked for her permission and she knew what it was. Lily had the same permission slip before her third year in Hogwarts started, a trip to a magical village called Hogsmead.

Petunia didn’t want to sign it. She felt bitter; she was supposed to forget, supposed to no longer be a part of that ridiculous world. She glared at the piece of parchment that Harry was currently holding out and with a sneer she replied, “Fine! But if this dinner with Vernon’s sister doesn’t go anything well because of your freakishness, then I won’t.”

Harry Potter only nodded his head kept the piece of parchment inside his pocket and headed out to her kitchen to cook for dinner.

Petunia could still remember that night on October 31, 1981 when someone had knocked on her door and she opened the door only to come face-to-face with one of those freaks. He had a hood over his face so she couldn’t be too sure who he was and what he looked like. The freak wore dark robes that touched the ground and he was carrying a sleeping bundle in his arms. There was something dark and sinister around him so Petunia had no choice but to listen to the figure as he demanded of her to take the baby in his arms.

She could never forget. The memory forever ingrained inside her head, she even had nightmares about it.

_“He’s your nephew, Harry James Potter. His parents have just been murdered tonight by one of the Dark Lord’s followers, and as his only living relative left I ask of you to take care of him.” The man spoke in a way as if he wasn’t asking for a favour, it was as if he was ordering her to do it._

_“And if I refuse? My sister’s life has got nothing to do with me! I don’t want her and her spawn to have anything to do with my perfectly normal life! Who cares about some war and about some lunatic?! Don’t involve my family with your kind!”_

_Then the air suddenly felt lacking as if the air inside her lungs was being sucked out. She choked .Petunia stared at the man, her eyes wide as an owl._

_“Watch your tongue. **You will take care of him**. I don’t have the means of taking care of a toddler and the kind of environment I have is not suitable for him. Don’t try my patience, muggle. The only reason I’m asking you is that I don’t want anyone to know of my relation to this child.”_

_Petunia cried in agony, she can’t speak. With her life on the line, she no longer questioned the other’s motives and just accepted the sleeping bundle. Harry Potter didn’t look like much of his father but he had Lily’s beauty, it made Petunia resent it more. The moment Petunia held the baby, air came rushing back into her lungs._

_“We do not speak of this. If anyone asks, just say that you adopted him **willingly**.” Petunia gulped. “If I so much as hear or see that he wasn’t well taken care of, I’ll wipe out your lot.”_

_And with those words, the figure disappeared._

_That morning she explained to Vernon that someone had left Harry on their doorstep with a letter, asking them to take him in. She wasn’t able to tell him that she was threatened to do so._

The years that followed, Petunia did her best to take care of her nephew. She reminded her family to never physically abuse the child and reluctantly, they obeyed. The Dursleys never slacked to feed the boy properly and he never once got hit but they made sure that the neighbours never knew about Harry. They locked the boy up inside the cupboard under the stairs. They couldn’t touch him so they retaliated with their hurtful words. They were too afraid that one day the man who left the baby behind would destroy them.

They lied to Harry for years, telling him that his parents died from a car crash because his parents were no-good doers that drove while drunk. For ten long years, except for some accidental bouts of magic from Lily’s spawn they lived peacefully. It was all fine and dandy until Harry finally received his Hogwarts letter on his eleventh birthday delivered personally by Albus Dumbledore himself.

After some explanations and excuses given to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Dursleys decided to give Dudley’s second bedroom to Harry. The coot sure was nosy, nosier than she was, Petunia reckoned. He kept asking questions in no way she would answer or else she would have risked her life and her family’s.

“Nicely done, Vernon. You’ve finally beaten some sense into this boy! Meek and silent, just the way I like it.” Marge said in spite yet Harry remained silent.

“Yeah.” Vernon replied, unsure how to respond.

Thankfully for the rest of the evening, Harry remained quiet despite the insults Marge spat against him and his parents. Petunia commended her nephew for his patience. After dinner, Petunia reluctantly signed the piece of darned parchment before ignoring the freak for the rest of his days during the summer.

* * *

>   _BLACK STILL AT LARGE_
> 
> _Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today._
> 
> _“We are doing all we can to recapture Black,” said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, “and we beg the magical community to remain calm.”_
> 
> _Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis._
> 
> _“Well, really, I had to, don’t you know,” said an irritable Fudge. “Black is mad. He’s a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister’s assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black’s true identity to anyone. And let’s face it — who’d believe him if he did?”_
> 
> _While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse._

Harry looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. Harry had never met a vampire, but he had seen pictures of them in his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and Black, with his waxy white skin, looked just like one. Harry had heard of Sirius Black from the television. In Muggle news he was a wanted serial killer.

They sat inside their compartment on the train heading to Hogwarts. Anthony sat beside Harry while Michael and Terry sat in front of them.

“He looks scary doesn’t he?” said Michael who had been watching Harry read from the Daily Prophet’s paper.

“That's what Azkaban does to you mate. Dad said he didn’t even get a proper trial” said Anthony.

“Black was a big supporter of You-Know-Who. I don’t think anyone would get a proper trial supporting him” said Terry.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Black was a supporter of the Dark Lord?”

“Yeah,” said Terry, eating his chocolate frogs. “He was very close to You-Know-Who, so they say… anyway, when Neville Longbottom got the better of You-Know-Who, all of You-Know-Who’s supporters was tracked down. Most of them knew it was all over, with the Dark Lord gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I heard he thought he’d be second-in-command once You-Know-Who had taken over. “

“Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles.” Anthony cut in. “Black took out his wand and he blasted half the street apart, and a wizard died, and so did a dozen Muggles that got in the way. Horrible, isn’t it? And you know what Black did then?”  

“What?” said Harry.

“Laughed,” said Michael. “He just stood there and laughed. And when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, he went with them still laughing his head off. He went mad.”

 “They did a good job covering it up.” Terry said. “’The whole street was blown up and all Muggles dead.”

“Gas explosion,” said Anthony.

“And now he’s out,” said Michael, examining the newspaper picture of Black’s gaunt face again. “Never has been a breakout from Azkaban before.”

“Beats me how he did it.” Cut in Terry. “It’s frightening. I don’t fancy his chances against Azkaban’s guards.”

The three grimaced.

“Enough about that.” Anthony spoke as to change the subject. “So Harry, what electives have you chosen this year?”

Harry actually wanted to take all subjects but Tom had insisted that it’d be wiser to just choose the ones that interest him the most as he would only be stressing himself out. Last summer, while he was isolated inside his room, Harry immediately rubbed the silver earring and was astonished that Tom’s voice resounded inside his head. A ‘Hello Harry’ made Harry giddy with happiness. The magic didn’t even alert the Ministry, with Tom’s wide range of knowledge, more knowledgeable than books could ever compare, Harry had done all his summer homework like it was only with a snap of his fingers.

During the dinner with Marge, instead of listening attentively to Marge’s babbling he was actually conversing with Tom inside his head instead.

“I’ve chosen to select three, Study of Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and Divination.”

Tom had advised that he should drop the subject of Divination as it’s a very superstitious subject, not all magical persons has been gifted with The Sight and only selected ones can be actually considered Seers. He had advised Harry to take Arithmancy instead as it was a more profound and better way to predict as what’s to come but it was for naught. From Tom’s voice he obviously disapproved with Harry’s decision but what could he do? Harry was persistent.

“Divination? Really, Harry?” Anthony looked at him with disbelief. “Isn’t that subject taught by a total fraud? You know that barmy Professor Trelawney?”

“You mean Sybill Trelawney? The professor who delights on predicting the deaths of practically everyone?”  said Terry.

“Yeah.. she has been boasting around the castle about how she was the great-great-great-granddaughter of the well-known seer, Cassandra Trelawney. That’s she’s been given the gift of The Sight inherited from her grandmother, a load of codswallop if you ask me.” Michael said.

Terry looked at Harry with a questioning gaze. Harry frowned.

“It’s just that I’m interested in it alright. I’ve never read much about magic that could predict the future, who knows I might have The Sight.” Harry exclaimed.

The three of them snorted simultaneously.

“Well at least you’ll get an easy high grade on that subject. Just predict the most gruesome death of your partner.” Anthony joked.

Harry pouted. They all laughed.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, and the wind roared.

“We must be nearly there,” said Anthony, leaning forward to look at the now completely black window.

The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.

“Great,” said Terry, getting up to try and see outside.

“We can’t be there yet, why are we stopping?” said Michael, looking outside their compartment.

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows. Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.

The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

“What’s going on?” said Terry’s voice from behind Harry.

Harry felt his way back to his seat.

“Do you think we’ve broken down?” Harry asked.

There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Anthony, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out. “There’s something moving out there,” He said. “I think there’s something coming aboard…”

Harry immediately rubbed his earring.

_‘Harry?’_ Tom’s voice spoke inside his head.

_ ‘Tom something’s going on inside the train.’ _

Michael had taken out his wand and casted a ‘Lumos’ and the compartment was filled with light.

‘ _Harry, what’s happening-‘_ Tom’s voice echoed worry but Harry wasn’t able to reply when he saw what was standing in the doorway just right outside their compartment.

It was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry’s eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water… But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry’s gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak. And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very soul…

_The sound of a bomb heading down the orphanage. A panicked voice, a door forcefully being opened._

_“Harold! We have to get out of here! The adults and the other orphans have already evacuated. Nitwits! They abandoned us! Come! Hurry!”_

_A sound of running footsteps, laboured breaths. Numerous houses and infrastructures destroyed. Thick smoke that surrounded them, bright flames lighted their way. Screams of agony echoed all around._

_“Harold, hold on! Stay with me!”_

_Strong shoulders carried him, the sound of the other’s heartbeat. Then pain._

_“No! Harold!”_

“Who..?” Harry whispered then passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: There's a reason why I didn't start with Harry's first year at Hogwarts, you'll find out soon enough. I don't want to give any spoilers :) But those who asked and was curious, (˵ ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°˵)ﾉ⌒♡*:･。.


	3. A Protector

_“I want to show you something.”_

_It was night time and the moon and stars shone brightly over the two figures who were currently sitting on the roof of Wool’s orphanage while the rest of the world lay asleep. Harold and Tom had sneaked out of their room and with Tom’s magical abilities, he casted a spell he learnt from Hogwarts that made everything feel comfortable and so they were impervious to the harsh cold breeze. Harold was astounded. Tom just grinned._

_“Hey, I thought you aren’t supposed to use magic outside of Hogwarts?”_

_Tom scoffed._

_“I won’t be detected. As you see, I’m not using any wand and so the Ministry won’t be able to trace it towards me.”_

_Tom held out his hand, he whispered an incantation and on his palm a silvery white and golden light appeared in a miniature form of a creature. Harold stared amazed, it was a golden dragon. Harold could almost hear it roar, it moved along Tom’s hand. Whenever it moved it left traces of whispery silver and golden light. Dragons symbolized power, charisma, authority, and a protector of all. A gold one fitted Tom well._

_“It’s very beautiful. Have you named it yet?”_

_“I haven’t. I was hoping we’d name it together.”_

_Harold stared at Tom’s eyes. Tom stared back._

_“Tim.” Harold blurted out._

_“What?”_

_“His name is Tim.”_

_Tom looked at him incredulously._

_“If I had known that your name giving skills are this terrible I wouldn’t have asked. We should change it to something more incredible like ‘Mathias’ or something. ‘Tim’ is a very simple and common name.”_

_Harold pouted._

_“Tim!” Harold called to the dragon and to Tom’s horror it responded, it even appeared to have liked the name it was given. It leaped from Tom’s hand to Harold’s and wagged its strong tail and butted its head to Harold’s hand. Harold looked at Tom with a triumphant look._

_Tom could only sigh._

_“So what is this particular spell called? It’s brilliant!” Harold exclaimed, the dragon-Tim as he was called now played with Harold’s hand._

_“The Patronus Charm. It was a very difficult spell to learn, probably the most difficult from all the spells I’ve learnt so far. We weren’t supposed to tackle about it yet.” Tom gestured for the dragon and the dragon left Harold’s hand and went to Tom. “It’s a protector of sorts, kind of like a pet but it can only manifest when one fueled it with a powerful memory, a specific happy memory. One powerful enough to overcome all, as is the reason why most wizards find it hard to conjure it, especially a corporeal one.”_

_Tom paused, his eyes turning solemn and intense. “There are creatures in the magical world Harold, creatures so terrible they suck the happiness out of you. But luckily for me, Tim will be there to protect me.”_

_“What memory do you use to fuel him?” Harold asked, curiously._

_Tom stared at him, his face suddenly turned serious. Then he leaned down and kissed Harold’s forehead, a very rare gesture that he reserved only for Harold. He whispered into his ear silently and gently in caress._

“ _Memories I have of you.”_

* * *

“Harry! Harry! Wake up mate!”

Terry was shaking him.

Harry opened his eyes; there were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking — the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. Anthony and Michael were sitting next to him, and above them he could see someone else he hadn’t seen before watching. Harry felt very sick.

 “Are you okay?” Terry asked nervously.

“Yeah,” said Harry, looking quickly toward the door. The hooded creature had vanished. “What happened? Where’s that — that thing? Who’s Harold? Is it you?” Harry gazed at the unknown man.

The occupants inside their compartments looked at him worriedly. Then Anthony spoke.

“He isn’t Harold, Harry. He’s the new professor at Hogwarts, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Professor Remus Lupin.”

“That thing we saw a while ago was a Dementor, one of Azkaban’s guards.” Terry grimaced.

“They must have been searching the train for Sirius Black.” Michael said.

They all had pale faces, but the professor looked worse of them all. Professor Lupin wore extremely shabby clothes; he looked pale, ill, and exhausted. While young, his hair already had streaks of grey. He broke an enormous slab of chocolate to pieces and gave everyone inside a piece. The largest piece he gave to Harry.

“Eat.” He spoke to everyone. “It’ll help.”

Professor Lupin crumpled the chocolate’s wrapper and urged everyone to eat the chocolate once again before he disappeared into the corridor.

“What happened?” Harry asked again.

“The Dementor stood there and looked around.” Anthony replied.

“We were worried Harry, you started getting all rigid. Your eyes were wide open and your breaths had come short suddenly.” Terry looked at Harry with worry written all over his face. “We thought you were going to die.”

“Thankfully, Professor Lupin showed up.” Michael said. “He pulled out his wand and casted some kind of charm, there was a silver light that came out of his wand and the Dementor just glided away.”

Harry ate the chocolate and it helped but he still felt weak. There was still a lingering voice in his head. Who was Harold? The name sounded familiar and the person shouting his name sounded a lot like Tom. Everything was so confusing and his head was starting to hurt.

“I think I’m better now.” Harry said.

“I felt so cold. It was depressing and it felt like I’m never going to be happy again.” Terry looked as if he found it hard to swallow the piece of chocolate. “Now I know why they’re the ones guarding Azkaban. Being imprisoned there would be a lot harsher punishment than death.”

No one was able to respond and so the rest of the train ride was filled with silence. Harry leaned into the window, the earring burned on his ear and he hesitantly rubbed it.

_‘Harry, are you alright? What happened back there?’_ Tom asked.

_‘There was a Dementor inside the train. I-I saw and h-heard something horrifying but I-I feel better now.’_ Harry felt like he had died.

_‘Oh Harry, Dementors are terrible creatures. It’s no wonder that you felt that way.’_

_‘Tom, what are they?’_ The question was hovering inside his head for a while now.

_‘They feed on every happy memory, any positive feeling of hope and peace. They’re considered one of the foulest magical creatures and are often feared by the magical community because of their ability. Some say they are the children of Death itself.’_ Tom explained.

_‘Tom, I felt like I was dying, it was like I was in a different terrible place.’_ Harry shuddered, still remembering the horrible flashes inside his mind. _‘It’s true that I didn’t feel happy at all but I saw and heard something.’_

_‘That’s just what they do Harry. Many that encounter Dementors relive their most horrible memories, the souls with the most horrible experiences often are the ones Dementors covet to devour. The worst criminals are sentenced the Dementor’s Kiss where one would have their soul sucked out leaving behind an empty shell.’_

_ ‘It’s different. I saw something I’ve never seen before and I don’t even have any really horrible memories. I saw destruction, fire, and death. Tom, I felt like I was reliving someone else’s memory.’ _

_‘What do you mean Harry?’_

_ ‘I-I saw you Tom or someone who looked and sounded like you. Well younger and he was trying to save someone, someone named Harold.’ _

Tom went silent.

_ ‘Tom?’ _

_‘It must have been mine. You might have seen my memory instead.’_

_ ‘Your memory? Is that possible?’ _

_‘Maybe so, our minds were connected at that time Harry. I’m sorry to have you see that one, the most dreadful of them all.’_

Harry was shocked and curious. Tom had never mentioned anyone with that name before. It was too close to his name too. Tom never did talk about anything not related to his time at Hogwarts and seeing this as a chance to get to know Tom better Harry had seized it.

_ ‘Who’s Harold?’  _

_‘My… friend.’_ Tom answered hesitantly.

_‘What happened to him?’_ Harry would’ve liked to know who Tom’s friend was; Harry didn’t even know he had a friend until now. Tom must have cared for this ‘Harold’ so much, enough for him to have that specific memory to be one of his worst. Seeing that he was being quite rude asking personal questions to Tom, he was about to apologize but Tom immediately replied.

_‘He …..wasn’t able to survive. We were both living at a time where there was a war going around. I had magic to protect me, Harold was Muggle, and his death was inevitable.’_ Tom paused. _‘He was my closest companion.’_

Harry felt guilty.

_‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’_ Harry apologized.

_‘It’s alright’_ Tom replied before he broke the connection. Harry suspected Tom wouldn’t feel like talking to him anytime soon. Harry’s heart clenched.

When the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, there was a great scramble to get outside. Harry clutched his scarf tighter, it was freezing. Harry felt awful, he should have been more considerate. It was Tom’s memory and his worst too. Whoever Harold was, Tom cherished him more than anyone else and it probably caused Tom great grief losing his friend like that. Harry couldn’t really relate since he’d never experience such deep friendship but he knows that if he were to lose his friends too then he’ll be sad. Harry decided that he’ll apologize again the next time they’ll talk. Harry ignored the notions of jealousy towards this ‘Harold’.

Harry, along with his friends followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled by creatures called thestrals, Harry found it weird for him to be able to see thestrals as they said that only people who had seen death can see them. Harry garnered many weird looks when he asked about the creatures pulling the third year’s coaches when he saw them on his first year. But when he learned about thestrals, he reasoned that he might have seen his parents’ death.

Harry, Terry, Michael, and Anthony rode in a coach along with a girl also in Ravenclaw named Luna Lovegood. She was bullied often for her unique personality, most students in their house even from the other houses called her ‘Looney Luna’ because of her strange behaviour. Fortunately she befriended Ginny Weasley which lessened all the bullying. She looked up from reading _The Quibbler_ to stare at Harry and company and offered a smile.

“Hello Harry, Terry, Michael, and Anthony. Good evening isn’t it?” Luna greeted.

“Hey Luna” They all greeted her back simultaneously. Harry thought he heard Terry mumble ‘Not really a good evening’ under his breath.

Their ride was silent; it was obvious that what had happened inside the train still affected the group, all of them except Luna. Harry felt somewhat uncomfortable, Luna kept glancing his way and often enough when their gazes meet she would offer him an unfathomable smile. For Harry he also found her strange but not in a bad way, it was just that every time she looked at him it was as if she found Harry very interesting, not romantically, but as if he was something that didn’t belong anywhere around her universe.

“I know you’re confused Harry.” She said suddenly. And everyone immediately turned their heads into her direction. They didn’t actually expect her to be the one to break the silence.

“Err.. what do you mean?” Harry replied awkwardly.

“The wrackspurts like to flock all over you the most. They just can’t leave you alone.” Luna said, adjusting the spectres she wore all over her eyes.

“Wrackspurts?” Terry asked, confused. Luna turned her head to his direction.

“Wrackspurts can’t be seen by the naked eye and they fly into people's ears and making their brain go fuzzy. They like to confuse people” Immediately Terry covered his ears with both of his hands.

“Dolt.” commented Michael. Terry glared at him.

“Covering your ears won’t make them go away, you can just think happy thoughts right Luna?” Anthony said.

Luna nodded her head. To Harry what made him confused was Luna.

As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Harry saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf him again; he leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed his eyes until they had passed the gates. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt.

“You fainted, Longbottom? Is Creevey telling the truth? You actually fainted?”

As Harry stepped down, he heard Draco Malfoy’s booming voice. He just can’t get tired of bullying Neville. It kind of irritated Harry, he never really liked bullies. They like to repeat the same silly nicknames and same insults that Harry sometimes believed they should be treated at St. Mungos for a complete lack of a brainstem.

Harry and company ignored them was about to enter the Great Hall for the evening feast when someone in the crowd called for him. “Potter!” Harry turned his head and was surprised to see Professor Snape heading toward his direction. Harry groaned.

The worst bully of all has come.

Harry would rather be in Professor’s Binns classes all day than be in one of Professor Snape’s potion classes. The man was a complete git. With his hooked nose, unfair personality, and grumpy demeanour most students hated him. He has this specific personal dislike for Harry and Harry couldn’t even remember giving him a reason to hate him. Potions was one of his favourite subjects and Snape just had it in him to make it a living hell. He gave unfair grades, especially for Harry. The potion he made one time should have been given an ‘Outstanding’ but Snape the git that he was only gave him an ‘Acceptable.’ He was cruel and his only form of delight was to torment Harry for the rest of his years in Hogwarts.

“Don’t look at me like that, Potter. Five points from Ravenclaw for that disrespectful gaze.” 

Like Harry said, he’s a total arse.

Terry, Michael, and Anthony gave him pitying looks before they hurriedly went inside the Great Hall with tails running between their legs, leaving Harry to deal with his worst nightmare. ‘ _Don’t go-‘_ Harry thought. He glared at their backs.

Traitors.

“Don’t ignore me.” Said Snape. “Another five points from Ravenclaw.”

Ugh! “Yes, Professor?” Harry said as politely as he can.

Snape looked at him with disdain.

“The Headmaster asked me to deliver a message. He said that he wants to meet you inside his office and I shall lead you there after the feast is over. Of all the teachers here I wonder why he would choose me of all people.” He complained.

_‘I was actually wondering the same thing’_ rebutted Harry inside his head.

Without any more words, Snape ignored Harry and headed into the staff table inside the Great Hall. Harry followed suit, reaching the Ravenclaw table and seeing the smiling guilty faces of his friends Harry sat down and gave them each a glare then proceeded to listen to the Headmaster’s announcement. He announced Dementors would be roaming around the places surrounding Hogwarts (Harry shuddered at this) in search for Sirius Black, then he even introduced Professor Lupin as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Harry wondered if this professor will stay for more than one school year, their DADA teacher always change every year. It seemed like the position was cursed.

The Gryffindor table roared in response when Dumbledore announced that Rubeus Hagrid would be filling in the post for Care of Magical Creatures in place of Professor Kettleburn who retired to take care of his remaining limbs. The feast started and Harry dutifully ate wondering about what Dumbledore wants with him.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, considered every single student in Hogwarts as his grandchildren. It was the greatest honor to be the mentor of many young minds and Albus couldn’t be more delighted to see these children grow up into great wizards and witches in pursuit of their dreams and ambitions. As a professor for many years he’s seen the rise of many, and sadly he’s also seen the fall of others too. One amongst what he regretted the most was Tom Riddle who grew up to be known as Lord Voldemort, the most powerful and darkest wizard the world has ever seen.

It couldn’t be helped he reasoned, the boy even in his childhood was too controlling, too dominating, and friendless. Albus had even doubted the boy had a soul as he couldn’t know or express love and it saddened Albus. All he could do right now was, do what he’s able to do to lessen Voldemort’s threat. Protect his students and prepare Neville for the task the prophecy set him out to do.

He sat inside his office sipping another one of his favourite desserts, Lemon Drop, while waiting for one particular student.

Albus wasn’t surprised when he heard that young Neville Longbottom has fainted inside the train, he probably saw the images of his earliest memories when Lord Voldemort had murdered his parents Alice and Frank Longbottom. Albus had immediately called for Professor McGonagall to check on Neville, worried for his well-being. The Dementors are vicious creatures and Albus don’t want any of those wraiths coming near Hogwarts’ students, especially the Wizarding World’s only hope.

Imagine his surprise when Remus Lupin reported to him that it wasn’t only Neville who fainted on the train during the Dementors’ visit. He expected that the girl ‘Ginny Weasley’ to be the one the professor was referring to, the girl after all experienced the horrors of being possessed by Tom Riddle also known as Lord Voldemort, but instead it was a student he never paid much attention to.

Harry James Potter.

Albus could almost remember as if it was yesterday. The happy faces of both Lily and James Potter as they held and cradled their baby boy was one of the most touching memories Albus had, one of those that he would never forget. It was only a pity that they have been murdered by one of Lord Voldemort’s forces, which until now their identity was still unknown and what happened to them. The casualties of war were too much and now the boy was left at the hands of the Dursleys. 

On year 1981, Harry Potter had been other candidate that the prophecy might have pertained to. Albus had actually suspected that Voldemort would be coming for the Potters as Harry, like Voldemort, was a half-blood but instead, Voldemort headed towards the Longbottoms and sent his minions to the Potters, they were betrayed by Black to the Dark Lord and was eventually killed.

What puzzled Dumbledore was how exactly young Harry ended up with the Dursleys. Albus searched for the boy for a few years until he found out he was living with his mother’s relatives. The Dursleys weren’t even a little bit helpful at explaining to him.

_“I already told you.” Petunia groaned in frustration. “I just found him outside my doorstep with a letter from an unknown person. And I decided to adopt him, try to raise him up nothing like my sister.”_

_Petunia glared at him. Albus just continued to sip into his tea. It was quite delicious._

_Albus knew that she was hiding something but for some unexplainable reason he wasn’t able to read her mind. Powerful Occlumency protected her mind, for a muggle, Albus thought that her mental shields can’t be that powerful so he suspected that someone might have set it up, powerful enough to keep even Albus himself from entering it._

_Albus finished his tea and headed toward the eleven year old boy standing by the door and he handed out his letter. Albus could almost hear Petunia scream from the background. It seems that some powerful wizard put on powerful shields around the boy as Albus couldn’t also read the boy’s mind. Harry looked up at him with sparkling eyes and a smile._

_“Happy Birthday Harry, do you want me to accompany you to Diagon Alley?” Albus greeted him._

_“So it’s true, I have magic.” The boy giggled, clearly excited. The boy had been listening to their conversation since Albus arrived.  “Thank you very much Mr. Dumbledore, but could you just take me there and I’ll buy what I need? I want to do this independently.”_

_Albus reluctantly nodded his head. Albus took the boy to Gringotts first, it brought Albus great delight when he saw the amazed expression Harry wore when he saw the magical alley and the world separated from Muggles. He was ecstatic, curious to every bit of detail. Albus knew the feeling._

_It was at the moment when he was about to leave the boy when he spoke._

_“It’s really funny sir.” Harry said._

_“What is?”_

_They stood in front of Ollivander’s._

_“Did you have red hair back when you were younger? You look awfully alike to an odd professor I’ve seen before.”_

_Harry said before he entered inside the shop to get his wand and Albus was left wondering outside. He was sure that this was his and Harry’s first meeting and the boy didn’t even know about the Wizarding World before. Could it have been a coincidence?_

_“Strange.” Albus whispered before he disapparated._

He didn’t pay any more attention to the boy after that. Albus reasoned that the person who left Harry with the Dursleys had a perfectly good reason leaving the boy behind the Dursleys and Albus assumed that it might have been one of the Potters’ friends that Albus didn’t pay much attention. The war at that time was no suitable environment for any child and it was with muggles will Harry be safe. Albus didn’t doubt that he would’ve done the same. He gifted the boy his invisibility cloak when Christmas came on his first year as to express concern for the boy but no more than that. Neville after all was in need of more concern.

His door creaked open and there stood Harry Potter.

“Well get in Potter! He hasn’t got all day!” Severus’ voice boomed before Albus heard his footsteps walking away from his office. The door clicked shut.

“Lemon Drop?” he offered.

Harry seated on one of his sofas before politely declining. They sat in an uncomfortable silence before Harry decided to finally ask why the Headmaster had called for him.

“Sir, why have you called for me exactly?”

Albus sighed.

“Are you alright my dear boy? I heard from Professor Lupin that you have passed out from the Dementor’s visit inside your compartment. Did the Dursleys do anything in particular to trigger any bad memory?”

“None really terrifying, sir. The Dursleys… they’re alright. They don’t hurt me.” The boy replied fidgeting with his robes. Albus wasn’t convinced but decided to let the matter go. He’d just write a letter to the Dursleys and maybe he could try and persuade them to treat the boy better.  Anyways there was also another matter he wished to speak with the boy regarding his godfather.

“Harry, do you know Sirius Black?” Albus asked.

Harry blinked his eyes rapidly not expecting the question. “Not much professor, according to the press he was a well-known follower of the Dark Lord. He murdered a wizard and a dozen Muggles. They picture him as a mad man.”

Albus casted him a pitying glance. “Yes..” Albus wondered if he should tell the boy that Sirius was his godfather but decided that it was not his story to tell. “The reason I called you tonight was to warn you not to go looking for Black.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Sir, why would I go looking for a murderer? Anyone with a brain won’t do such a thing.”

Albus knew that no one would be willing to tell the boy anyway even Lupin but instead of directly telling the boy of his relation to Black and Black’s relationship with his parents, he decided to let Harry discover it himself. The boy was sorted into Ravenclaw after all meaning the boy was smart. It was better this way.

“Why don’t you look at the photo album Hagrid gave you on your first year, the picture of your parents?”

“Why sir?”

“You might discover something hmm? Every story has a beginning Harry. We must know the reasons behind why a specific ending happened. There are circumstances in our life that come unprecedented; they affect us in ways none can ever predict. But it is up to ourselves whether we let these transform us for the better or for the worse.” Albus said vaguely.

Harry looked at him oddly and nodded his head slowly.

He never really trusted Dumbledore, for some odd reason ever since Dumbledore came to the Dursleys Harry couldn’t quite put his finger on it that there was this immediate distrust from the professor. He was grateful that Dumbledore found him, without Dumbledore Harry would’ve still been ignorant of what he truly was and he wouldn’t have found this amazing world. Dumbledore was only concerned for him but Harry got this feeling that he was only being manipulated.

Dumbledore always does something or says something for a reason. Whatever it is it was obvious Dumbledore wanted Harry to know something about Sirius Black. And of course Harry wanted to know why Dumbledore was adamant for him to find something out.

“Um… Yes sir, I’ll do what I can. Good night sir.”

“Good night, Harry.”

Harry got up from his seat and exited the Dumbledore’s office. He headed to Ravenclaw Tower and the door knocker uttered another one of its riddles.

**_It appears in many faces_ **

**_Present on every one’s places_ **

**_It watches over its treasure_ **

**_One it cares for beyond measure_ **

Harry answered.

“A protector.”

* * *

In the deepest part of the forest just right outside the village of Little Hangleton, Tom stood in front of the Gaunt’s ancestral home, the Gaunt Shack. The dead snake was still pinned to the door and the shack was still ridden with tree roots in its decayed and deteriorated state.

He remembered he had come here seeking to meet his blood relatives and hopefully learn more about his heritage. He found his uncle, Morfin Gaunt, along with a mass of filth, rusting pots, and mouldy food. Morfin almost attacked him but he introduced himself using the ancient gift Salazar bestowed upon his descendants, Parseltongue. Then he found out about his father and his paternal grandparents. When he learned that his father had abandoned him when his mother was pregnant, he saw rage. And in his rage he had committed his first mass murder after which he framed his uncle for his crime and took the Gaunt Ring for himself.

Knowing himself if there was a second horcux to be made it would be the ring and the location would be here where no one ventured. Tom entered the shack and found the ring on the floor. No one would have noticed that the ring held a piece of him inside it, he picked up the ring and the ring vibrated.

The environment around him changed into a more blurry state. And another version of himself appeared, wearing the robes he must have worn the time when he created his second horcrux. The age gap between them wasn’t big and so their appearance was not that different from each other.

“My my, I never expected that you’d be able to visit me, younger me.” The other piece of his soul said. “How have you come out of the diary? I must say I underestimated my younger self.”

“Well certainly, I had better opportunities. Don’t act too mature our age isn’t that wide, we were made on the same year although it must have been boring being hidden inside this molting rotten place.”

The other piece of his soul laughed which Tom referred to as ‘Ring’ since it was the vessel he currently resided in. “Ah yes, I do agree. But you have graced upon me and isn’t this the opportunity I was currently waiting for? So tell me, what have you come for?” Ring asked.

“I wish to unite.”

Ring laughed, his dark eyes narrowed. “There’s a reason why I had split my soul or have you forgotten? Emotions are a burden that destroyed me and such feelings I abandoned for the sake of immortality.”

Tom just smiled. “We both know that’s not the only reason. You might have numbed feelings such as Love when Harold died, but you still didn’t forget him did you?”

Ring glared. “Harold would have hated me to what I have become, presuming if he were still alive. I do not wish to feel such emotions and I would if I joined with you.”

“Both of us will gain benefits from this, you could finally roam around when we’re joined together once again. Larger the piece is, more intelligent it becomes. And we won’t be losing our good looks and charms, won’t we? We could be better than the one currently living like a parasite.”

“Tempting, really tempting. I’ve always known I was charming and can be very persuasive but still not enough to convince me. You could do better.”

“Then what if I were to tell you that the diary has been destroyed but not I? That even with miniscule magic I currently have, I survived but the diary didn’t. I even have a corporeal tangible form.”

Ring’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “That’s impossible. Even if you escaped the diary, with its destruction you should have vanished into smoke.” Ring contemplated, finding reason. “Unless… you had someone else to assist you, you are not tied to an object but a person in place of the diary.”

“Yes.”

“Then you should know well what I would answer. I refuse to be tied to a person, no matter how loyal or how obedient. I refuse to be in a situation that’ll make me vulnerable; if this person were to die then won’t I die as well?”

“I think that you won’t mind protecting him, since you know this person very well.”

“I find it hard to believe you. Me? Protect a person other than myself? Coming from the mouth of my younger self it would seem that you still haven’t matured that much yet. The only person I’m willing to protect other than me is already dead. Do enlighten me.”

Tom’s eyes gleamed. “Oh but he isn’t. His soul still lives.”

“You lie.” The atmosphere turned heavy and the environment glitched for a moment but Tom was unaffected. “Harold died in my arms.” Ring’s voice cracked just like that time.

“Harold lives.” Tom declared. “He goes by the name Harry James Potter now and he’s beginning to recover his memories. He has magic and is currently in his third year at Hogwarts. He’s the one who saved me and the horcrux I’m tied to.”

Ring calmed down and stared, trying to detect any lie from Tom. When he found none, he nodded his head and sighed.

“Alright. I’ll join with you.”

Tom grinned in triumph.


	4. A Mentor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys.. I'm sorry for the late chapter. Things had been really hectic and I was quite absorbed in reading Chinese Novels... hehehe. Anyways I thank all of you who left kudos. I'm not really sure when will be the next update but hopefully I'll be able to post 2 chapters a month. :)

Harry was starting to regret this.

He should have known, he should have listened to Tom to take Arithmancy instead. Sybill Trelawney looked absolutely like an over-sized human insect. She was thin with fuzzy hair and her glasses magnified her eyes too big their natural size, she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings. And like an insect she was annoying.

Harry was seated in one of the tables and in front of him was a crystal ball with nothing but moving smoke in it. Surprisingly, Terry Boot had also decided to be in Divination and Harry gave him the looks. Terry blushed.

The room didn’t look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone’s attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.

“So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you… Books can take you only so far in this field…”

At these words, both Harry and Terry snorted. Looking over the Golden Trio, Harry saw that Neville and Ron glanced, grinning, at Hermione, who looked startled at the news that books wouldn’t be much help in this subject.

“Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future,” Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. “It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy,” she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouf in surprise. “Is your grandmother well?”

“I think so,” said Neville.

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you, dear,” said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings. Nevilled gave her a deadpan gaze. Professor Trelawney continued placidly. “We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear,” she shot suddenly at Parvati Patil, “beware a red-haired man.”

Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her and edged her chair away from him.

Harry thought they were idiots. Professor Trelawney continued to introduce her subject from the next term to the last. Harry was really _really_ regretting taking this subject. Forget The Sight, maybe Tom would be still willing to teach him about Arithmancy? Harry doesn’t doubt that he could be a very good teacher.

“Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of _Unfogging the Future_. I shall move among you, helping and instructing.”

Harry and Terry looked at each other.

“So…. Why did _you_ take Divination?” Harry’s eyebrows rose, he has been waiting for this and Terry nearly tumbled out of his chair. “And I quote, ‘You mean Sybill Trelawney? The professor who delights on predicting the deaths of practically everyone?’”

“Come on Harry... sure I did make fun of you but a little fun won’t hurt right? Anyway you didn’t ask if you were the only one taking the subject. There’s a reason I’m taking it.” Terry blushed, twirling his fingers.

“Oh I know why you’re taking the subject.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” Harry glanced towards the Golden Trio’s direction. “Neville’s right over there two tables on our right.”

“Harrryyyy..”

Harry smiled at his friend ‘innocently’. Who knew that revenge could also be quite sweet?  When Harry and Terry had had their teacups filled, they went back to their table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. They swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped over.

“Okay,” said Terry as they both opened their books at pages five and six. “What can you see in mine?”

“A load of brown sluggish tea,” said Harry. The heavily perfumed smoke in the room was making him feel uncomfortable, like he’s losing his brain cells every time he inhales.

“Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!” Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom.

“o…kay. Let’s see umm… I see a very large crooked kind of ...d-stick” Harry consulted _Unfogging the Future_. “That means… basically err … it might have been a wand so.. ‘developing magical prowess’ –good thing I suppose- but I also see .. an animal… a sheep.. no a ‘lamb’ meaning… ‘innocence and purity’…  sooo in you’re going to get more powerful but you’ll remain a virgin?”

Harry thought he heard someone laugh behind them.

“Get serious Harry. ‘Innocent and pure’ doesn’t have to mean being a virgin.”Terry glared.  “You’re still feeling like you have The Sight yet? You need to have your Inner Eye checked mate.” said Terry, and they both tried to stifle their laughs.

“My turn!” Terry gleefully peered into Harry’s teacup, his forehead wrinkled with effort. “There’s a … ball with a fuzzy smoke inside it… or is it an eye?” He said, then Terry’s face grimaced when he checked the book for its meaning. “It means you’ll develop your innate talent in…” Terry paused and looked at Harry awkwardly.

“What?”

“-Divination… or you’ll disrupt the original course of destiny’.” He replied. “Harry, could you have been mistaken when you read my teacup earlier? It’s not really true I’ll remain a virgin right?” Terry stared at him with pleading eyes.

“That’s ridiculous.” Harry sniffed. “What else do you see?”

“Ohh right. I also see.. a box.. meaning ‘hidden and forgotten’ … so you’ll remember something you’ve forgotten?”

“I’m pretty sure I haven’t forgotten anything but maybe I’ll do so in the future. That’s weird.”

“Yeah, weird.”

The whole class suddenly erupted in whispers. Harry and Terry turned their heads and saw Professor Trelawney looking into Neville’s tea cup.

“The Grim, my dear, the Grim!” cried Professor Trelawney who suddenly screamed, she looked shocked that Neville hadn’t understood. “The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen — the worst omen — of death!”

After their Divination class ending with a bristling Hermione, Neville’s prediction of death (which was no surprise to Harry and Terry), and the whole class’ chatter about the Grim, Harry and Terry separated ways. Harry has Ancient Runes class next while Terry has Muggle Studies, they bid their usual ‘see ya later’ and headed their ways.

* * *

_‘Harry’_ Tom’s voice resounded in his head.

Harry sat inside the kitchens with the house elves surrounding him. They were looking at him with smiling faces and provided him a small table beside the large window that viewed the mountains and the forests. They gave him delicious snacks and Harry was currently eating treacle tart, his favorite.

It was lunch time and Harry instead of going to the Great Hall he decided to go to the kitchens instead to visit his creature friends. The house elves were very welcoming and they were very kind. One time when he got lost in the castle a house elf found him but instead of reporting it to any professors or prefects the house elf guided him back to Ravenclaw Tower, her name was Linny, she promised him that she’ll keep his escapades a secret and ever since he’d been befriending Linny and her friends. They knew many things about the castle and even secret passages and rooms, one in particular Harry often went to when he wanted to be alone.

_‘Hey Tom, I’m sorry about what we talked about last time. I was rude and insensitive.’_ Harry bit his lip and the house elves seeing that his expression changed offered another plate full of treacle tart which Harry gladly accepted. The house elves’ ears perked, they looked glad.

_‘It’s alright Harry, It’s forgotten.”_ Tom replied _. “I hope you didn’t call me just to apologize, how’s Divination Harry?”_ Harry blushed.

_ ‘It was fine, umm very interesting.. I learned a lot.’  _

_“Oh?”_ Weirdly enough Harry could almost imagine Tom raising his elegant eyebrows.

‘ _Well… it was.. weird. We drank tea and tried to interpret what was in our teacups. Terry didn’t really look pleased from what I interpreted in his cup. But mine was good enough, it’s exactly what you told me Tom. Lots of guess work._ ’ Harry sighed, finally admitting that Tom was right about the subject.

_“I told you Harry.”_ Tom sounded smug. _“Are you now willing to drop the subject and proceed with my suggestion to take Arithmancy?”_

_ “About that… er.. I’m not dropping the subject.’ _

Tom paused _. “Can you tell me why?”_

_ “Terry still wants to take the subject.. and-“ _

_“ **Who** is Terry?’_ Tom sounded irritated and displeased. _“And how is he more important to your own magical education? Is he a pureblood? Does he have the right connections?-“_

_ ‘Why do you care if he’s a pureblood or not Tom? I’m a halfblood. Terry’s just a friend.’ _

Tom was silenced.

_‘-and am I not?’_

_‘You are Tom, my closest friend yet.’_ Harry replied, trying to ease Tom’s jealousy or at least Harry thinks he is _. ‘I’m not dropping the subject but I’ll do take Arithmancy but under your tutelage, I have no doubt you could teach me better.’_ Harry paused. _‘ Or at least if you are willing?’_

_‘I …apologize.’_ Tom said _. ‘I was out of turn, it is only natural that you have friends of your own. I thought I was the only one… of course I’d be willing to teach you Harry. But I must say you’d have to be ready. I’m strict and I strive for perfection. Do you understand Harry?’_

Harry’s eyes gleamed in excitement. The house elves mirroring his expression and provided more treacle tart.

_ “Thank you Tom! Let’s start later when I go to the Library.” _

Harry then broke the connection and headed for his next class but a house elf tugged on his robes and packed several more treacle tarts for him. Harry smiled at his little friends and accepted the snack. He thanked the house elves and bid his goodbye then headed for his Care of Magical Creatures class that Hagrid was teaching.

* * *

Harry was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday’s rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.

Harry wasn’t surprised when this time Anthony and Michael also took this elective, he grinned at them. Harry walked beside them in silence as they went down the sloping lawns to Hagrid’s hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was only when he spotted the uniforms of yellow when he realized they must be having these lessons with the Hufflepuffs.  Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.

“C’mon, now, get a move on!” he called as the class approached. “Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin’ up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!” Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.

“Everyone gather ‘round the fence here!” he called. “That’s it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books —”

“How do we do that sir?” said Ernie Macmillan.

“Eh?” said Hagrid.

“How do we open our books?” Hannah repeated. She took out his copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_ , which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too; some, like Anthony, had belted their book shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips. Harry was quite enamoured with the book, it was funny and it proved to be a challenge to open. When Harry took out his book, it cooed at him. All Harry did was massage its spine and teeth.

“Hasn’ — hasn’ anyone bin able ter open their books?” said Hagrid, looking crestfallen. But then he saw Harry and he’s eyes shone.

The class looked at Harry with questioning gazes.

“You have to _stroke_ them,” said Harry, his face went pink not used to the attention. “Look —”

Harry took Michael’s copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Harry ran his hand down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand. Then everyone followed suit.

Hagrid was beaming.

“Righ’ then,” said Hagrid, “so — so yeh’ve got yer books an’… an’… now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I’ll go an’ get ‘em. Hang on…”

He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.

“Oooooooh!” squealed Padma Patil, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.

Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Harry had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.

“Gee up, there!” he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.

“Hippogriffs!” Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. “Beau’iful, aren’ they?”

Harry could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the Hippogriffs’ gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, scarlet, and inky black.

“So,” said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, “if yeh wan’ ter come a bit nearer… It’s al’righ ‘ey won’ ‘urt yeh, Nev’ille got the ‘ang of it ‘while ago”

No one seemed to want to. Harry, however, approached the fence cautiously.

“Now, firs’ thing yeh gotta know abou’ Hippogriffs is, they’re proud,” said Hagrid. “Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don’t never insult one, ‘cause it might be the last thing yeh do. Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs’ move,” Hagrid continued. “It’s polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an’ yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh’re allowed ter touch him. If he doesn’ bow, then get away from him sharpish, ‘cause those talons hurt.”

“Right — who wants ter go first?”

Most of the class backed farther away in answer. Harry quickly raised his hand, he was excited. The Hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn’t seem to like being tethered like this.

“I’ll do it,” said Harry.

There was an intake of breath from behind him, it was Anthony and Michael, they tried to usher Harry but Harry ignored them. He climbed over the paddock fence.

“Good man, Harry!” roared Hagrid. “Right then — let’s see how yeh get on with Scarletfeather.”

He untied one of the chains, pulled the reddish-brown Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath.

“Easy now, Harry,” said Hagrid quietly. “Yeh’ve got eye contact, now try not ter blink… Hippogriffs don’ trust yeh if yeh blink too much…”

Harry can’t even blink, too mesmerized by the bird. Scarletfeather had turned her great, sharp head and was staring at Harry with one fierce scarlet eye. “Tha’s it,” said Hagrid. “Tha’s it, Harry… now, bow.” Harry immediately gave her a graceful short bow and then looked up. Scarletfeather was still staring haughtily at him. She didn’t move. But then, to Harry’s enormous surprise, she suddenly bent her scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

“Well done, Harry!” said Hagrid, ecstatic. “Right — yeh can touch her! Pat her beak, go on!”

Harry didn’t need to approach her, Scarletfeather immediately drew closer into his direction and bowed her head as if ordering him to stroke her and Harry did. Scarletfeather lazily closed her eyes, enjoying it. It was clear she wanted to be petted and appreciated.

The class broke into applause.

“Righ’ then, Harry,” said Hagrid. “I reckon she migh’ let yeh ride her!”

Harry was never used to a broomstick, it was kind of silly to think about it but he was wondering if you could fly without a broomstick. Harry just couldn’t imagine himself riding one especially when he was used to use it in cleaning. His first flying lesson was good and he got the hang out of flying but it wasn’t really for him. Harry was sure a Hippogriff flying ride would be different.

“Yeh climb up there, jus’ behind the wing joint,” said Hagrid, “an’ mind yeh don’ pull any of her feathers out, she won’ like that…”

Harry put his foot on the top of Scarletfeather’s wing and hoisted himself onto its back. Scarletfeather stood up. Harry wasn’t sure where to hold on; everything in front of him was covered with feathers.

“Go on, then!” roared Hagrid, slapping the Hippogriffs hindquarters.

Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry, he just had time to seize the Hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upward. It was nothing like a broomstick, and Harry knew which one he preferred. This felt more natural, more free, and more enjoyable. Scarletfeather took him and flew around Hogwarts’ grounds. The view was breath-taking and Harry almost wanted to be in the sky forever.  But it has to end, Scarletfeather then headed back to the ground gracefully, their landing was perfect.

“Good work, Harry!” roared Hagrid as everyone cheered.“Okay, who else wants a go?”

Emboldened by Harry’s success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Ernie ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn’t seem to want to bend its knees. Anthony and Michael practiced on the black one, while Harry watched, petting Scarletfeather who for some reason didn’t want to leave his side.

* * *

_‘Arithmancy in simple terms is a magical discipline that studies the magical properties of numbers. Many magical beings study this art as to predict a more scientific and precise way of predicting the future.’_ Tom said in a very formal tone. Harry can’t help but think that it reminded him of Professor McGonagald when she’s discussing in class.

It was night time and Harry was currently inside the most secluded part of the library surrounded by old and ancient Arithmancy books, Harry was about to buy the latest Arithmancy book but Tom refused, saying he could just acquire the same information inside the library. Harry had sneaked inside the library and casted a revised version of the Disillusionment Charm, taught to him by Tom. He was surrounded by numerous flickering candles and parchment scattered all around. What was written on the books was barely legible but fortunately it was still quite readable. Harry was quite guilty taking these books from the Restricted Section, Tom insisted that these books were better because they contained more ways to use the subject rather than as Tom quote ‘ridiculously and foolishly wasting it for something feeble as predicting the future.’  

When Harry opened the books and read it, he would understand why these were restricted. The books contained information about using magical numbers to enhance the strength of several Dark Curses not only that but also to use numbers as a way to  manipulate the time of one’s lifespan. It’s incredible, and even if it was hurting Harry’s conscience he couldn’t say he regretted it.

_‘But we wouldn’t be studying about using Arithmancy to predict the future. There are other better ways to use magical numbers; magical numbers can be used better in Curse-Breaking, Spell Creation, Runic Rites, Alchemy, Ward Making, and so forth. Nicholas Flamel, the well-known alchemist and maker of the famous Sorcerer’s Stone used Arithmancy to create this, by using Arithmancy one can extend one’s life, change the properties of a spell, combine and bond. There are endless possibilities. Simply put it is a very broad and wide subject but few know of its true worth in the magical development.’_ Tom continued.

_ ‘Tom is it possible to become immortal by studying Arithmancy? After all Flamel was able to create the Elixir of Life by the Sorcerer’s stone.’ _

_‘The usage of the Elixir of Life, hmm.. true it can expand one’s lifespan being ‘immortal’ never going to die but one can still die through physical means, and your appearance would only continue to deteriorate. Yes, Arithmancy can lead to one being ‘immortal’ but not fully.’_

_ ‘By magical numbers, we aren’t only limited to English numbers are we?’ _

_No, foreign magical numbers are also used. Ancient Chinese numbers, including Roman numbers are one of the best examples to use Arithmancy. But it is also not limited to that of human, some magical beings like the goblins, elves, centaurs, fey, merfolk who also have their own numeric culture can use Arithmancy, but in the passage of time many of these have become lost and forgotten._

_ ‘But if their numeric culture has been lost then can they never be found?’ _

_‘They can still be found but it is very difficult.’_ Tom replied, not giving any more information about it. After a few more introductions Tom gave him an assignment and that is to research about druidic numerology and Harry has this suspicion that he can only find this information inside the deepest part of the Restricted Section. Tom discussed about what each magical number represented and additionally he even discussed about the numbers of several ancient foreign cultures.

Just when Harry was about to gather his things and go to bed Tom suddenly asked.

_‘Have you ever encountered Muggle Mathematics Harry?’_

Harry wasn’t sure why Tom would ask but he replied. _‘Yes, I went to a muggle school.’_

_‘Then you might be interested. I’m planning to experiment on an idea of mine but sadly I don’t have the time so I was hoping you’d do this for me. Algebra, the study of mathematical symbols can be integrated with magical runes, along with Geometry and Number Theory. Combining both Muggle Math and Arithmancy, maybe we can make a new branch of magic.’_

Just from knowing from Tom’s theory Harry was really interested and excited. _ ‘What branch Tom?’_

_‘One never heard of before, we’ll be making magical seals.’_

* * *

Luna Lovegood had finally found her missing pair of shoes hanging from the windows. Nargles are very mischievous creatures, they like to steal and hide her things. On the way to Ravenclaw Tower she was discovered by one of the prefects and was reprimanded. The prefect knew Luna’s character and decided not to take points but give her a warning then escorted her to Ravenclaw Tower.

The door knocker then uttered its riddle.

**_Its success is failure without a successor_ **

**_Imparts its knowledge no lesser_ **

**_Creator of something greater than its own_ **

**_Enough to last forever renown_ **

Luna smiled and answered.

“A mentor.”

* * *

_“So you guys fly using broomsticks? And they even have a sport called Quidditch?”_

_They were at the park. Harold sat on the swing while Tom used his left hand to push the swing into action, his right hand holding a book. The sun was setting and the clouds blended in colors of scarlet, yellow, and orange. Tom and Harold were thrown out of the orphanage for a day as punishment for something they were accused of that they didn’t have anything to do with. They suspected it was Stubbs again._

_“Yes. It’s a very brutal game and I have no interest in it. Why use broomsticks when you could use magic to levitate yourself?”_

_Tom pushed the swing again and Harold was gladly enjoying the feeling of being pushed into the air back and forth. It was silly, but in a way being in the air felt free and the view up there was breath-taking. They have heard that the war might hit London soon and this might be one of the last days they’ll have the freedom to roam around._

_“So you could fly Tom?”_

_“Why do you doubt my abilities Harold?” Tom grinned. He waved his hands and suddenly everything around them changed, there were less people around and they didn’t seem to notice both Harold and Tom. The people would look into their direction and suddenly they would turn their backs as if they had forgotten about something. Harold looked at Tom._

_“What did you do this time?”_

_“A revised kind of Disillusionment Charm, not only will people not notice anything but also it will repel unwanted visitors around me.”_

_“I know that’s really impressive Tom but you said you can-“Harold wasn’t able to finish what he was saying before Tom pushed the swing really hard and Harold flew off the swing with a look of horror on his face. When he was about hit the ground Harold closed his eyes bracing himself for the impact but then he felt nothing. Harold didn’t know when it happened but he could feel strong arms holding his back and underneath his knees._

_“You could open your eyes now.” Tom said. Harold slowly opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Tom’s smug teasing face. Harold was about to scold him about scaring him half to death but then he saw that they were no longer on the ground. Harold looked at his surroundings and was amazed that he could see the whole of London, with the setting sun, a better view than from the orphanage’s roof. Tom was flying without a broomstick! And he was carrying him._

_“You. Are. A. Pompous. Twat.” Harold scolded him with a betraying grin. “You just have to make it more dramatic than it should be.”_

_“Dramatics itself is an art, darling.”_

_Harold rolled his eyes and suddenly kissed Tom’s cheek. Tom’s eyes widened in shock, rendered speechless, and his cheeks in a rare opportunity flushed in a faint pink._

_“I too have my own share of it, sweetheart.”_

_They flew all over London until the moon and the stars appeared. Mrs. Cole scolded them once again when they came to the orphanage later than what time their punishment should have ended but this was not enough to dampen boys’ mood. In a way it was more of a reward than a punishment. A time for themselves alone._

* * *

Salazar Slytherin’s lands have been long abandoned and hidden. The rightful owners, Salazar’s direct descendants have all died off except for Tom Marvolo Riddle who inherited the vast amount of land.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, to the public was now known as ‘Timothy Mathias Ross’ a fake identity Tom had painstakingly made these few months away from Harry. ‘Timothy’ while still very handsome did not look anything alike to his true identity; instead of the dark hair his hair was almost silver, and his eyes unlike the dark brown were a greyish blue. Tom had decided that to avoid anyone recognizing him, he decided to change his appearance as a safety measure.

The story was that Timothy was a half-blood bastard born from a muggle woman and a pureblood father but his father had died from Dragonpox and his birth was never registered and never known. Timothy’s mother died soon after, committing suicide. Timothy then grew up in different foster homes until he ran away when his magical powers manifested, he was discovered by a wandering magical family and was ‘home-schooled’ but the family died from the war Lord Voldemort waged.

Tom, who finally recovered a sufficient amount of magic fixed Slytherin’s ‘cottage’. The cottage was more like a summer manor, sophisticated and elegant, it was filled with green and silver colors with antiques. Surrounded with trees, it is a very good hideout. And it was beneath the cottage that a miniature of the ‘Chamber of Secrets’ was built.

Tom rubbed the Gaunt Ring and immediately, Ring appeared. Across the room, numerous runic symbols are drawn. Contrary to what Herpo the Foul said, it is not only remorse that can reconnect the soul. It would require the magic of the old, the magic at the time when Merlin himself was still a teenager. The magic of the Olde Religion.

Tom and Ring stood at the centre of the room their backs facing each other. Simultaneously speaking the incantation long forgotten.

“Onhweorfan mîn forward ferhð êadig heonu sund.” The runes began glowing, and everywhere was suddenly shrouded in smoke.

“Sê healf ðigen duguð fêorða swilce sum inde.” The ground shook.

Slowly the smoke faded and instead of two persons standing at the center there was now only one. Tom opened his eyes and checked his body, finding the ritual successful he smiled gleefully. Having absorbed Ring’s memory he found out that he was planning on creating more horcruxes, objects with great influence. There can only be the Hogwarts’ Founders’ legendary items and Tom then set his eyes on Slytherin’s Locket. Tom kept the now empty Gaunt Ring, planning on presenting it as a Christmas gift for Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: What Tom used in the ritual was Old English. I cannot assure you that it was the right translation because I used a fun translator. Who is a fan of the BBC show Merlin? I am, expect that I'll base some of the elements of my story according to that show.


	5. A Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! I'm so happy from all the support you have given. Especially those who left kudos and commented. Trust me it was really motivating... I'm so happy to know there were also Merlin fans around here \\(~^ ^~)/. I don't give spoilers hahaha.. As much as I want to answer the questions on the comments I can't because it would obviously ruin the surprise from the incoming chapters...
> 
> But for now please enjoy this chapter :)

_“Hey Tom? I was wondering.. do you have something you’re afraid of?”_

_Harold asked, he was staring right outside the window inside their room. Outside, he could clearly see the terrified and worried faces of different people. All of them worried about the war, many workers from the government were going house to house looking for recruits and many of the families were kissing and crying for their loved ones who are going to participate._

_Tom stared at Harold, expressionless. Tom never really cared about other people, aside from Harold he was indifferent to the pain and sadness of others, so he ignored the terrified people outside. Fear? Tom didn’t really think about it until now._

_“I don’t really have anything to fear.”_

_“Really?” Harold folded his arms and rested his head, his green eyes gleaming. “You’re so brave Tom. I wish I could be like you, you never fear anything. As for me I’m afraid of many things.”_

_Tom sighed and sat beside Harold._

_“You don’t have to fear anything Harold, I’m here. Everything will turn out just fine as long as we’re together.”_

_Harold smiled._

_“Okay.”_

_Tom kissed Harold’s forehead before standing back and bringing his packed luggage. It was time again for Tom to head for Hogwarts for his third year and the time that they could spend with each other was once again spent, leaving Harold stay at Wool’s which was terrible. Tom waved one final good bye and promising to come back for Christmas and the Eastern Holidays before heading for King’s Cross Station._

_Harold stared at Tom’s back a helpless smile on his face. He can’t help but despise himself for not having any magic and envying Tom who could go to that amazing world. Harold wasn’t part of that world, no matter what Tom said he couldn’t change the fact that their worlds were separate and shouldn’t be joined. He heard the rumours around the orphanage that Tom was possessed by some evil spirit that’s why may bad things are happening, some immature children also suspect that it was Tom who might have started the war in the first place._

_Harold knew that many muggles would envy the magical world if they knew about it, just like him. He also knew that when Tom would graduate he’ll be someone great and it was only inevitable that Harold wouldn’t be able to witness it because … Tom wouldn’t need him anymore. Harold would only hinder him from fulfilling the great ambition Tom has. He doubts that Tom’s ‘acquaintances would be willing to have muggle Harold within their world._

_Harold had already let go of his dream to be together always and just treasure the time Harold has with Tom before they part ways._

_“You know what I fear the most Tom?” Harold whispered, his heart crushed by the loneliness and longing._

_“It’s being separated from you.”_

* * *

“Hey, Harry,” said Terry, leaning over to get one of the books Harry read, “have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Sirius Black’s been sighted.”

They both sat inside the library, coincidentally Terry and Harry have the same vacant period and they both decided to spend their time reading for the next lesson, of course for Harry he was researching about druidic symbols and basic Arithmancy. Luckily Harry had quickly exchanged the books so Terry didn’t get suspicious when he picked up the book about Potions which was their next subject with Snape. Harry frowned, his mood destroyed, he wasn’t excited to see Snape.

“Where?” said Harry quickly. He was reminded of what Dumbledore wanted him to do, honestly Harry almost forgot all about it with many things on his mind like Arithmancy lessons with Tom, classes, Dementors and the like. Harry thought it was a good time to start investigating about Sirius Black.

On the other side of the long table surprisingly, Malfoy looked up, listening closely. Terry and Harry guessed that he was skipping classes using his fake severe arm injury as an excuse.

“Not too far from here,” said Terry. “It was a Muggle who saw him. ‘Course, she didn’t really understand. The Muggles think he’s just an ordinary criminal, don’t they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone.”

“Not too far from here…” Harry repeated. He turned around and saw Malfoy watching closely which he thought was weird considering him and Malfoy never really interacted and was rarely in the same class. “What, Malfoy? Do you need something?”

But Malfoy’s eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed Harry. He leaned across the table.

“Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?”

Harry gave him a confused stare, not really knowing why Malfoy would provoke him of all people. It was well-known that his favourite hobby was to bully Neville.

Malfoy’s thin mouth was curving in a mean smile.

“Of course, if it was me,” he said quietly, “I’d have done something before now. I wouldn’t be staying in school like a good boy, I’d be out there looking for him.”

“What are you talking about, Malfoy?” said Terry roughly.

“Don’t you know, Potter?” breathed Malfoy, his pale eyes narrowed.

“Know what?”

Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh.

“Maybe you’d rather not risk your neck,” he said. “Want to leave it to the Dementors, do you? But if it was me, I’d want revenge. I’d hunt him down myself.”

Before Harry could reply Madame Pince appeared looking disdainfully at Malfoy and Terry. Harry was excluded because Madame Pince knew the boy was always quiet and he enjoyed reading extensively, Madame Pince clearly has a high opinion on him. This made Terry tear up inside.

“Mr. Malfoy, this is the library and I won’t have you disrupt learning with noise. This is not a gossip house. I suggest you leave and visit the Hospital Wing when you’re clearly injured.” Madame Pince said the last part sarcastically.

Malfoy sneered then left. Madame Pince then glared at Terry and walked out.

“What was that all about?” Terry asked.

“I don’t know. Black hasn’t done anything to me and why would I want revenge?”

* * *

Harry once again glared at the back of Snape who was writing the instructions on the board for the new potion ‘Shrinking Solution’. Terry and Harry were only late for one minute and the git deducted five points from Ravenclaw each for Harry and Terry. Several of their housemates glared at them some gave them pitying looks and others were that of indifference already used to the Potion Master’s favouritism especially towards his own house.

Harry remembered that the ‘Shrinking Solution’ was one of the essays he had to finish from their summer homework and thanks to Tom he knew that there was a better way of preparing it than from what was written on the board.

“As you all should know” Snape said, “the Shrinking Solution, also known as a Shrinking Potion, is a potion that causes the drinker to shrink to a smaller form. It is bright green when brewed correctly and, if prepared incorrectly, it can apparently be poisonous.” Snape explained sternly, looking intently at a young Hufflepuff student who was particularly bad at the subject. “Exercise caution, the instructions would disappear after a five minutes.”

The students scrambled and hurriedly wrote the instructions on the board. Some gathered the needed ingredients and after a minute the whole classroom was filled with fume and smoke.

Searching his memory, Harry started preparing the potion, not bothering to write down or read the instructions which irritated Snape but couldn’t help but look at Harry with schadenfreude.  Harry didn’t bother about him and concentrated on his potion.

Ingredients are:

  * Minced daisy roots
  * Peeled Shrivelfig
  * Sliced caterpillars
  * One rat spleen
  * A dash of leech juice
  * A splash of cowbane
  * Wormwood



Remembering Tom’s instructions, he added five sliced caterpillars first, all of them with the same proportions and non-verbally used magic to adjust the heat from the fire. While waiting for the potion to turn red, Harry can’t help but think that Potions was just like Chemistry and Alchemy, Harry was excited. When the potion turned red Harry shook the peeled Shrivelfig until it is ready. He imagined Tom’s voice saying ‘ _this is extra important, as if one tries to add it before it is ready the potion may emit noxious green gases._ ’

Then one by one he remembered his instructions.

_‘Add peeled Shrivelfig until the potion turns yellow, adjust the fire again and stir counter clockwise twice and clockwise half… then allow the potion to simmer until it turns purple.  After that add four slices of the rat spleens to the cauldron. Mince the daisy roots in equal thin proportions before adding it to the mixture, wait till it turns green, do not waste any time and quickly add five drops of leech juice. Add more of the Shrivelfig, this time till it turns pink, stir it clockwise once then add one sliced caterpillar. Adjust the heat to high then allow the potion to simmer till it turns green.’_

Two hours of Double Potions went by until it was over and Harry wiped his sweat after carefully bottling his bubbling acid green potion, before submitting it to Professor Snape then turning his back heading to his next class. Harry smiled, green eyes gleaming knowing that his potion was done perfectly.

Professor Snape on the other hand was scowling even more when he saw the perfectly made potion. Anyone with a good eye knows that there wasn’t a single mistake. He eyed Harry’s figure disdainfully, checking if the boy had cheated yet he found no proof because he was locked-on at looking how Harry prepared the potion.

He took the potion and tested it on a quill, with satisfying results it shrank. Snape sneered and reluctantly graded it an ‘Outstanding’.

“Looks like he did inherit some of Lily’s talents after all.”

* * *

Professor Lupin wasn’t there when they arrived at his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher’s desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today’s will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands.”

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts class before, unless you counted the memorable class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of pixies to class and set them loose.

“Right then,” said Professor Lupin, when everyone was ready. “If you’d follow me.”

Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

Peeves didn’t look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away; then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

“Loony, loopy Lupin,” Peeves sang. “Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin —”

Rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect toward the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.

“I’d take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves,” he said pleasantly. “Mr. Filch won’t be able to get in to his brooms.”

Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, squib who waged a constant war against the students and, indeed, Peeves. However, Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin’s words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry.

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.

“This is a useful little spell,” he told the class over his shoulder. “Please watch closely.”

He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, “Waddiwasi!” and pointed it at Peeves.

With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves’s left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

“Cool, sir!” said Terry who was standing beside Harry in amazement.

“Thank you, Terry,” said Professor Lupin, putting his wand away again. “Shall we proceed?”

They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased respect. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door.

“Inside, please,” said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back.

The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher which Harry’s guessed had this period as his free time after his potions class. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, “Leave it open, Lupin. I’d rather not witness this.” He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him.

 “Now, then,” said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

“Nothing to worry about,” said Professor Lupin calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. “There’s a Boggart in there.”

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Zacharias Smith gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Anthony eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.

“Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces,” said Professor Lupin. “Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks — I’ve even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice.

“So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?”

“It’s a shape-shifter,” Anthony said. “It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Professor Lupin. “So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.

“This means,” said Professor Lupin, “that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?”

Harry jolted when Professor asked for him to answer the question. Not really used to being called except by Professor Snape. But still he answered.

 “Because there are so many of us, it won’t know what shape it should be.”

“Precisely,” said Professor Lupin. “It’s always best to have company when you’re dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening.

‘The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing.

“We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please… riddikulus!”

“Riddikulus!” said the class together.

“Good,” said Professor Lupin. “Very good. But that was the easy part, I’m afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. I want a volunteer from any of you.”

Michael raised his hand and stood forward. Professor Lupin nodded and guided him in front of the wardrobe. The wardrobe shook again.

“Right, Michael,” said Professor Lupin. “First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?”

“A ghoul, I think.”

Nearly everyone laughed. Michael blushed, embarrassed. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful.

“A ghoul… hmm right?”

“Er — yes,” said Michael nervously.

Professor Lupin, now smiling, said. “I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your mother usually wears?”

Michael looked startled, but said, “Well… I could say she likes to wear very umm… sophisticated robes.. ones that brings out her figure.”

“And a purse?” prompted Professor Lupin.

“A black one,”

“Right then,” said Professor Lupin. “Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Michael? Can you see them in your mind’s eye?”

“Yes,” said Michael uncertain, plainly wondering what was coming next.

“When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Michael, and sees you, it will assume the form of a ghoul,” said Lupin. “And you will raise your wand — thus — and cry ‘Riddikulus’ — and concentrate hard on your mother’s clothes. If all goes well, Boggart ghoul will be forced into that very same sophisticated, sexy robes that your mother wears, and a black purse.”

There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

“If Michael is successful, the Boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn,” said Professor Lupin. “I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…”

The room went quiet. Harry thought… What scared him most in the world?

A rotting, glistening hand, slithering back beneath a black cloak… a long, rattling breath from an unseen mouth… then a cold so penetrating it felt like drowning…

Harry shivered, then looked around, hoping no one had noticed. Many people had their eyes shut tight. Terry was muttering to himself, “Remove all of its hair.” Harry was sure he knew what that was about. Terry’s greatest fear was banshees.

“Everyone ready?” said Professor Lupin.

Harry felt a lurch of fear. He wasn’t ready. How could you make a Dementor less frightening? But he didn’t want to ask for more time; everyone else was nodding and rolling up their sleeves.

“Michael, we’re going to back away,” said Professor Lupin. “Let you have a clear field, all right? I’ll call the next person forward… Everyone back, now, so Michael can get a clear shot —”

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Michael alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.

“On the count of three, Michael,” said Professor Lupin, who was pointing his own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. “One — two — three —now!”

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin’s wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. An ugly creature that resembles a slimy, buck-toothed ogre appeared, its eyes glowing menacingly. Michael backed away shaking, he held his wand up, mouthing wordlessly.

“R — r — riddikulus! “ shouted Michael.

There was a noise like a whip crack. The ghoul screeched; it was wearing a long, silk dress robe, its face was filled with heavy powder and its lips were dyed red, and it was swinging a purse with a long chain.

There was a roar of laughter; the Boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, “Padma! Forward!”

Padma walked forward, her face set. The ghoul rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Padma and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising —

“Riddikulus!” cried Padma.

A bandage unraveled at the mummy’s feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

“Terry!” roared Professor Lupin.

Terry darted past Padma.

Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floorlength black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face — a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek that made the hair on Harry’s head stand on end — “Riddikulus!” shouted Terry.

The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone, then its hair all fell off.

Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then —crack!- became a

rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before —crack! — becoming a single, bloody eyeball.

“It’s confused!” shouted Lupin. “We’re getting there! Ernie!”

Ernie hurried forward.

Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

“Riddikulus!” yelled Ernie.

There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

“Excellent! Anthony, you next!”

Anthony leapt forward.

Crack!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant snake, a basilisk, was advancing on Anthony, its eerie glowing eyes and powerful fangs were dripping venom. For a moment, Harry thought Anthony had frozen. Then —

“Riddikulus!” bellowed Anthony, and the basilik’s eyes vanished; it rolled over and over; Hannah Abbot squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Harry’s feet. He raised his wand, ready, but —

“Here!” shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward. Crack!

The blind basilisk had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then they saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said, “Riddikulus!” almost lazily.

Crack!

“Forward, Michael, and finish him off!” said Lupin as the Boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! The ghoul was back. This time Michael charged forward looking determined.

“Riddikulus!” he shouted, and they had a split second’s view of the ghoul in its silk dress robe before Michael let out a great “Ha!” of laughter, and the Boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

“Excellent!” cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. “Excellent, Michael. Well done, everyone… Let me see… five points to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff for every person to tackle the Boggart — ten for Michael because he did it twice… and five each to Anthony and Harry.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” said Harry.

“You and Anthony answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry,” Lupin said lightly. “Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarize it for me… to be handed in on Monday. That will be all.”

Talking excitedly, the class left the staffroom. Harry, however, wasn’t feeling cheerful. Professor Lupin had deliberately stopped him from tackling the Boggart. Why? Was it because he’d seen Harry collapse on the train, and thought he wasn’t up to much? Had he thought Harry would pass out again?

But no one else seemed to have noticed anything.

“Did you see me take that banshee?” shouted Terry.

“And the hand!” said Ernie, waving his own around.

“And the ghoul in that dress robe!”

“And my mummy!”

“I wonder why Professor Lupin’s frightened of crystal balls?” said Hannah thoughtfully.

“That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we’ve ever had, wasn’t it?” said Terry excitedly as they made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.

“He seems like a very good teacher,” said Anthony approvingly.

* * *

The sun was setting and Harry was lazily sitting on his bed inside Ravenclaw Tower. On his lap was the large photo album Hagrid gave him on his first year and inside were various moving pictures of his parents and their friends. One in particular was Sirius Black who had his arm around James Potter, dressed formally in black robes, looking nothing like the picture the Daily Prophet has of him now. Harry Potter almost didn’t recognize him. Sirius in the picture was very handsome and he had a smile that looked nothing maniacal, and Harry thought that this was him before he went insane.

Knowing this bit of information Harry was surprised… and conflicted. Black was a known murderer and a Dark Lord fanatic but looking at this picture the expression on Black’s face was genuine like he really was happy for the wedding of his parents. Black was obviously his dad’s best man.

Putting the clues altogether from Malfoy’s words and Dumbledore’s eagerness for him to find out something about Black. It seems that Black was best friends with father and had somehow one way or another betrayed them? Black all of a sudden turned dark?

Harry wasn’t so sure and decided to know more. Harry felt angry knowing that if Sirius really did betray his parents, from what he knew his parents were veterans from the war and was one of its heroes standing up and defying the Dark Lord other than that none. It was only necessary to learn the truth and what really happened first, one should never jump into conclusions so Harry reigned in his emotions to think more rationally. 

Harry has time, no need to rush looking for Black.

Now about that Boggart, Harry thought. He didn’t really get a chance and it looked fun.

What do I fear?

* * *

Inside the cave by the seaside with a dark and unforgiving sea, a figure stood on a small island surrounded by a dark still lake. The handsome face remained stoic as he opened a trinket, a mere imitation of what Salazar’s locket truly looked like. What he saw and read contained inside, he wasn’t pleased.

> _To the Dark Lord. I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B._

Tom immediately burned the piece of parchment left behind inside the fake locket. Tom’s eyes darkened in supressed rage. How foolish of his future self to let a person know of his secrets and worse to let a stranger hold a piece of his soul with an intention to destroy it. Tom could only hope that the main soul piece’s mind didn’t disintegrate so much to let the horcrux remain destructible by normal means and whoever this ‘R.A.B’ is didn’t succeed.

Tom turned his back and left the cave knowing that time was precious. The search for the locket would continue. Searching through his memories there were who had their surnames start with ‘B’ and it was highly probable that it should be from a wizarding family. Horcuxes aren’t well known, it was a notorious dark art that even many ancient pureblooded lines don’t know anything about it, especially muggleborns. Tom doubts that even Dumbledore would babble it freely just to anyone.

But there is a certain wizarding family that stuck close to Lord Voldemort during the war that most of the Death Eaters came from and it was possible that they have the means to learn about horcruxes. Tom sneered.  There can only be the Black Family.  

* * *

The moon shone brightly and its light illuminated the dark empty Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom from the windows. The room would’ve been quiet if not for the constant wobbling of a Boggart locked inside a closet. Harry immediately removed his invisibility cloak and casted a Silencing Spell around the classroom as to prevent any noise from coming out.

Harry didn’t get the chance to know what his Boggart was and is infinitely curious as to what he fears the most. As such Harry decided to find out tonight. He raised his wand and opened the closet, at first, there was nothing then the boggart appeared with a whipping sound.

What Harry saw, it was nothing what he expected and what he prepared for.

It was young Tom Riddle, the very same from what he saw during the Dementor’s attack, specifically it was Tom’s corpse. Tom wore horrible clothes his eyes dead and unseeing, blood pouring down from his mouth and he was surrounded by rubble and dirt.

Harry doesn’t know why but tears were suddenly rolling down his face and his whole body began trembling and shaking.

Then without warning, corpse Tom’s eyes moved staring back at Harry’s. Its mouth moved and spoke in an incredibly daunting, mocking, and eerie voice.

_“I’m going to leave you..’cause I hate you. You should have been the one to die, to be hurt.”_

Harry’s heart shattered in reasons he didn’t know.

Tom’s bloodied mouth then smiled, and uttered a name directed at Harry. It was the name Tom said was his deceased muggle friend.

_“Harold… Why did you come back? Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”_

Harry closed his eyes tight, trying to think of anything outside from this kind of nightmare. He raised his trembling hand holding the wand and almost shouted out.

“R-r-Riddikulus!”

The Boggart could have kept coming but Harry didn’t check what happened to his Boggart anymore, he grabbed his cloak and immediately scurried outside the door running towards Ravenclaw Tower. A million thoughts were running inside his head and his heart was beating rapidly. Tears kept running down from his eyes.

_Why was that my Boggart?_

_I don’t understand_

_Why Tom?_

_Who is Tom to me?_

_Is he somehow related to my dreams?_

_Who is Harold?_

_Did Tom lie to me about him?_

Harry paused and stopped in front of the door knocker. It was a long time before he touched the door, trying to make sense on what had happened. The door, the moment it was touched uttered its riddle.

**_It lives in the very darkest parts of the mind_ **

**_One we aren’t aware of until we find_ **

**_It stems from one’s heart and soul_ **

**_Great courage to create its downfall_ **

“A fear.”

The door clicked open and Harry rushed in, then everything that happened next was a blur. But Harry knew that the last thoughts inside his head before he fell asleep were how similar their names were.

_Harold_

_Harry_

_Am I him?_


	6. A Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha... So belated Happy New Year Guys! I didn't update for quite a while and there's no excuse. I procrastinated and it lead to writer's block. Especially when you were so hooked up on reading other fics hahaha! But for now enjoy this chapter. I made it extra long this time to make up the time. :)

_The first time they met, Tom was four._

_Even at a young age Tom had his memories stored up inside his head and he can vividly remember that his first impression of Harold is that he was like everyone else. A disgusting, judgmental person who would be jealous of him, Harold would be no one special. He would fade into the background; he wasn’t noticeable and has nothing remarkable about him except for his eyes. He was nothing like Tom who can do things no one can._

_This was what Tom thought so why is that he can’t help feeling like he was naked before those emerald eyes. And as much as Tom hated to admit, he felt uneasy, afraid and he hated it._

_Tom hated Harold on first sight. Even more so when they turned seven and were assigned a room together._

_“Hey.” Harold smiled, his eyes gleaming. “I’m Harold. Harold Pantiel, I’ve seen you around and it looked like you don’t hang out with any of the other orphans so let’s be friends.” Harold held out his hand for a handshake but Tom ignored him and continued to read books advanced for his age. Harold’s smile slightly curved down but he immediately smiled again._

_“What’s your name? They don’t really want to tell me your name so..”_

_Tom ignored him again. It didn’t work Harold was persistently irritating for just a name. Tom glared at Harold, he hated his own name, there are a lot of Toms in the world and his name that should have been great was so common. He didn’t want to be known as ‘Tom’._

_“Go away. Don’t talk to me and ignore me like everyone else. Very bad things will happen to you if you mess with me.”_

_Then Harold did something unexpected that made Tom’s blood boil. He knocked his head. Tom stared wide-eyed at Harold, too shocked. No one had done that before the orphans and adults were always too afraid of him. Harold’s annoying eyes gleamed, staring back at Tom’s brown eyes in anger._

_“What the hell is wrong with you? I’m just asking for a name. You don’t have to be so mean about it. There, if you want to hurt me fine. But I’m not going to give up on you. Everyone needs a companion, these years you looked so lonely.”_

_“I am not lonely and I don’t need a frien-“_

_“-Oh shut it. I decided to be your friend and you have no choice but to accept.”_

_Tom felt like he was slapped, hard. No one, absolutely no one should tell him what to do._

_“What?! Who gave you the decision? You dare-”_

_“I decided this on my own. I want to be your friend, is that so wrong?”_

_Tom went silent. Being Tom’s friend was so so wrong, Tom didn’t need feelings, didn’t need compassion, didn’t need love, Tom didn’t need anyone. Everyone is worthless and only him is special. But.. why is that his lips are moving but no words were coming out? Like the words were just stuck down inside his throat. He can’t tell all these things to the boy in front of him. It can’t be true and Tom wanted so badly to convince himself. Tom stared at Harold, the boy was now tremendously pouting and his eyes have tiny droplets on its corners. Harold was suppressing his tears._

_Incredibly stupid._

_Tom whispered, looking at anything besides those eyes._

_“Tom. Tom Riddle.”_

* * *

  _‘Tom, can you tell me more about … Harold?’_

Ever since that night when Harry confronted his Boggart, he’s been suspecting that he might have some kind of connection to ‘Harold’, and the more he remembers the boy in his dreams the more convinced Harry is that that boy might have been Tom in his younger years. That would explain why the first time they met then it wasn’t like meeting a stranger but it was like a very long-awaited reunion. There were still a lot of variables to consider and every speculation Harry thought about had loopholes but if he could have an answer then it might explain everything.  

It’s ridiculous in Harry’s opinion. But then it is not impossible.

_‘Why would you want to know about him?’_ Tom replied.

Harry was actually quite guilty asking Tom about such a personal question but for the sake of confirming his suspicions then it would obviously entail a few probing questions. Harry just hopes that Tom would be patient enough.

_ ‘I’m curious… You see, he was a muggle right? And obviously you’re magical so I was wondering how you two met? You never really talk about anything about your friends back then.’ _

Harry bit his lip.

He waited for a few more minutes and when there was no answer from Tom Harry sighed in disappointment.

Was he too insensitive after all?

Harry stood at the edge of Hogsmeade looking far ahead over an abandoned shack. They call it the ‘Shrieking Shack,’ according to the locals it was so named because every time there was a full moon they would hear something shrieking inside the old shack. Some believed it was a ghost, a creature, or a monster. Harry didn’t care, the too joyful and noisy crowd was suffocating him and no monster would hinder him from having his own time alone.

“Hey Harry, what are you doing here alone?”

Or so he thought.

Harry turned around and saw both Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. Harry looked at them and strained a smile in greeting. Well, they were just acquaintances and he could see that the Golden Trio was missing the most important of them all, the so-called Chosen One.

“Er.. Hey .. um.. I could see that Neville’s not with you guys?”

Ronald scratched his head.

“Err.. He forgot where he put his permission slip and so didn’t get to come this time. But we did promise we’d buy him snacks. He wanted to go but you know the rules you can’t enter Hogsmeade without permission and yeah that..”

The atmosphere was quite awkward which was not really surprising considering they shared nothing between them but curt greetings and nods par Hermione who for some reason wanted to best him during exams.

“Well, I’d bet he’d pester Professor Lupin this time for …you know …that thing.” whispered Hermione, but not soft enough for Harry not to overhear.

“What thing?” He asked.

Hermione was quite hesitant but nonetheless answered.

“Harry, you did hear the rumours did you? The day Neville fainted on the train because of the Dementor, well they exaggerated some details but it was true. We were on the same compartment with Professor Lupin and it was him that saved him using some kind of spell that repels Dementors”

“And during Defense Class with Professor Lupin, Neville’s Boggart was a Dementor, we were all expecting it to be You-Know-Who but then again every time Neville would get close to a Dementor he would always almost faint. He said he’s gotten tired of it so he was planning for Professor Lupin to teach it to him.” butted in Ronald.

Hermione subtly hooked her arm around Ronald’s and dragged him away but not before saying something to Harry and not appear rude.

“Well, Harry we heard that you fainted on the train too. Maybe you could ask Professor Lupin for the same?” Hermione smiled.

“See ya later Harry.”

Harry nodded and when he did, Hermione and Ronald left bickering along the way.

Maybe Harry should consider it too. He remembered when he encountered a Dementor that day, a few snippets of ‘Tom’s memories’ were present and he had gotten a hold of some information about Harold. Maybe if he could see more of it and prove that that time it was Harold’s memories that he had seen and not Tom’s. Because if it was Tom’s memories why is it then that in those memories he had only seen his younger version and he had not seen what Harold exactly looked like.

In those memories it was from Harold’s perspective.

“If you won’t tell me Tom, I’ll find it out myself.”

* * *

 “We’d better go down, you know, the Halloween Feast’ll be starting in five minutes.” Said Anthony fixing his scarf, then they hurried through the door and into the crowd, discussing about Sirius Black.

“But if  — you know —” Terry dropped his voice, glancing around, “if the Dementor was trying to — to suck out his soul as his punishment for his heinous crimes— They call it a Dementor’s Kiss by the way would that in a way be like the usual kissing? Or is it like a good snog, a French kiss or just a peck?”

“Yeah, maybe,” said Harry not really paying attention as they reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

“Well, you wouldn’t want to find out would you? If you look at it, isn’t it disgusting? Try to imagine getting all smoochy with a boney wraith-like creature, along with the rotten black skin and torn robes.. ” Michael said.

Michael, Terry, and Anthony all had sour faces.

“Ewwww!”

“Happy Halloween” Harry said.

“Haarrryyyy!”

The food was delicious; even Terry and Michael, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything. Harry kept glancing at the staff table. Professor Lupin looked cheerful and as well as he ever did; he was talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher. Harry moved his eyes along the table, to the place where Snape sat. Was he imagining it, or were Snape’s eyes flickering toward Lupin more often than was natural?

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading. While their ghost the Grey Lady was nowhere to be seen.

It had been such a pleasant evening that Harry’s good mood couldn’t even be spoiled by Malfoy, who shouted through the crowd as the Golden Trio (now with Neville) left the hall, “The Dementors send their love, Longbottom!”

Harry and company followed the rest of the Ravenclaws along the usual path to Ravenclaw Tower, but when they reached the corridor that lead to the Gryffindor tower, they found it jammed with students.

“What’s going on?” a Ravenclaw asked.

“Don’t know”

As Harry passed along them, many of the Gryffindors was whispering, and Harry heard a few of what they were saying.

 “The Fat Lady has run away from her portrait! It had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.. Professor Dumbledore got there and ordered a search for her yet none of the other paintings was helpful, and then Peeves got there, told him it was Sirius Black.”

“Sirius Black? I thought that Hogwarts was guarded? It was the reason why they are many Dementors roaming around.”

“Well, it’s Black we’re talking about here.. He must have found a way to get around those Dementors… Azkaban’s full of them yet he escaped.”

“Do you think he was after Longbottom? Trying to kill him and yet he was so close..”

“Shhh.. Neville might hear you.”

After a few more minutes Professor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors, Harry and company with them back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by the other students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who were quite early to reach their dorms, they all looked extremely confused.

“The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle,” Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. “I’m afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately,” he added to Percy, the Head Boy, who was looking immensely proud and important. “Send word with one of the ghosts.”

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, “Oh, yes, you’ll be needing…”

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

“Sleep well,” said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors and a few Ravenclaws present at the scene were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.

“Everyone into their sleeping bags!” shouted Percy. “Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!”

“C’mon,” Anthony said to Harry and they seized four sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.

“Do you think Black’s still in the castle?” Terry whispered anxiously.

“Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be,” said Anthony.

“I reckon he’s lost track of time, being on the run,” Michael said. “Didn’t realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he’d have come bursting in here.”

Terry shuddered.

All around them, people were asking one another the same question: “How did he get in?”

“Maybe he knows how to Apparate,” said a Ravenclaw a few feet away, “Just appear out of thin air, you know.”

“Disguised himself, probably,” said a Hufflepuff fifth year.

“He could’ve flown in,” suggested Dean Thomas.

“Honestly, am I the only person who’s ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?” said Hermione crossly to Neville and Ronald.

“Probably,” said Ronald. “Why?”

“Because the castle’s protected by more than walls, you know,” said Hermione. “There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can’t just Apparate in here. And I’d like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They’re guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They’d have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they’ll have them covered…”

“The lights are going out now!” Percy shouted. “I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!”

The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. What with that, and the whispering that still filled the hall, Harry felt as though he were sleeping outdoors in a light wind.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in. Harry watched him looking around for Percy, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Percy was only a short way away from Harry, Michael, Anthony, and Terry, who quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore’s footsteps drew nearer.

“Any sign of him, Professor?” asked Percy in a whisper.

“No. All well here?”

“Everything under control, sir.”

“Good. There’s no point moving them all now. I’ve found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You’ll be able to move them back in tomorrow.”

“And the Fat Lady, sir?”

“Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She’s still very distressed, but once she’s calmed down, I’ll have Mr. Filch restore her.”

Harry heard the door of the hall creak open again, and more footsteps.

“Headmaster?” It was Snape. Harry kept quite still, listening hard. “The whole of the third floor has been searched. He’s not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either.”

“What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney’s room? The Owlery?”

“All searched…”

“Very well, Severus. I didn’t really expect Black to linger.”

“Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?” asked Snape.

Harry raised his head very slightly off his arms to free his other ear.

“Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next.”

Harry opened his eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood; Dumbledore’s back was to him, but he could see Percy’s face, rapt with attention, and Snape’s profile, which looked angry.

“You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before — ah — the start of term?” said Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.

“I do, Severus,” said Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in his voice.

“It seems — almost impossible — that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed —”

“I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it,” said Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn’t reply. “I must go down to the Dementors,” said Dumbledore. “I said I would inform them when our search was complete.”

“Didn’t they want to help, sir?” said Percy.

“Oh yes,” said Dumbledore coldly. “But I’m afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster.”

Percy looked slightly abashed. Dumbledore left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face; then he too left.

Harry glanced sideways at his friends but all of them except Terry had their eyes closed tight, like they were trying to forget what they just heard.

“What was all that about?” Terry mouthed. Harry didn’t answer.

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who’d listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.

The Fat Lady’s ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. No Gryffindor was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day. Harry found him interesting and funny, and he was quite upset he won’t get to see him anymore on the way to their Divination class.

“He’s a complete lunatic,” said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. “Can’t we get anyone else?” Harry overheard them talking across the Gryffindor Table.

“None of the other pictures wanted the job,” said Percy. “Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer.”

Of course because of the debacle that happened Harry observed that Neville was now being closely watched. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with him, and Percy Weasley (acting, Harry suspected, on his mother’s orders) was tailing Neville everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog.

But what Harry didn’t understand was even he was being watched by none other than Snape of all people.

“There’s no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter,” he said in a very serious, irritated voice. “I know this will come as a _shock_ to you,” Snape rolled his eyes, “but Black —”

“I know he’s my godfather,” said Harry wearily and Snape looked aghast, muttering ‘just like his father’ under his breath. “It’s easy to connect it all together when looking through the photo album, but what I don’t understand is Professor that I’m being watched, if Black is with the Dark Lord then I don’t believe any reason for him to contact his godson whose parents he had ‘betrayed’”

Snape seemed very taken aback, his frown seemed a little deeper. He stared at Harry for a moment or two, then said, “I see! Well, in that case, Potter, you’ll understand why I would take another 15 points from Ravenclaw for your cheek.”

Git.

Snape then turned his back and strode along the hallway; surprisingly the class he was supposed to head into was the same direction that Snape had gone to. Harry hurriedly went inside his Defense Class.

 “Sorry I’m late, Professor Lupin. I —”

But it wasn’t Professor Lupin who looked up at him; it was Snape. _He didn’t even tell me he was substituting!_

“This lesson began about three minutes ago, Potter, so I think we’ll make it ten points from Ravenclaw. Sit down.”

But Harry didn’t move.

“Where’s Professor Lupin?” he said.

“He says he is feeling too ill to teach today,” said Snape with a twisted smile. “I believe I told you to sit down?”

Harry quietly sat down beside Michael.

“What’s wrong with him?” Harry whispered next to Michael but Snape sharply replied. “Nothing life-threatening,” he said, looking as though he wished it were.

“As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far —”

“Please, sir, we’ve done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows,” said Ernie quickly, “and we’re just about to start —”

“Be quiet,” said Snape coldly. “I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin’s lack of organization.”

“He’s the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had,” said Zacharias boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape looked more menacing than ever.

“You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you — I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss —”

Harry watched him flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn’t covered.

“— werewolves,” said Snape.

“But, sir,” said Zacharias, seemingly unable to restrain himself, “we’re not supposed to do werewolves yet, we’re due to start Hinkypunks —”

“Mister Smith,” said Snape in a voice of deadly calm, “I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394.” He glanced around again. “All of you! Now!”

With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.

“Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?” said Snape.

The Hufflepuffs sat in motionless silence while some students from Ravenclaw raised their hand, as it so often did. Well Harry would never raise his hand if it was Snape’s class.

“Anyone?” Snape said, ignoring those Ravenclaws. His twisted smile was back and looked interestingly at Harry. “Potter!”

 Harry stood shakily, “the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf —”

“That is enough,” said Snape coolly, interrupting Harry. “Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn’t even taught you the basic distinction between —”

“Harry obviously knows the answer yet you won’t even let him finish,” said Padma suddenly, “why ask a question you don’t even want to hear the answer to.”

“Silence!” snarled Snape, but even so he didn’t deduct any points this time. “Well, well, well, I never thought I’d meet a third-year class who wouldn’t even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…”

No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.

“Very poorly explained… That is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia… Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn’t have given it three…”

When the bell rang at last, Snape held them back.

“You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand.”

Harry, Anthony, Terry, and Michael left the room with the rest of the class, the Puffs waited until they were well out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirade about Snape.

“Snape’s never been like this with any of our other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job,” Ernie said to Hannah. “Why’s he got it in for Lupin? D’you think this is all because of the Boggart?” Apparently one of the students had Professor Snape as his Boggart and it was quite funny to hear that Boggart-Snape was made to wear a dress.

“I don’t know,” said Hannah pensively. “But I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon…”

* * *

 The Black family records were hard to come by but not too difficult for Tom to get a hold off. A simple forgotten Disillusionment Charm along with his disguise, he had entered one of the Black family’s manors, the one where Orion had once given him access to.

The tapestry that filled the walls of the large hall displayed every person that has the Black blood running through their veins. Tom wasn’t surprised to see Harry’s name, as the Potter family was a once pureblood family that had intermingled with Blacks before.

It was quite disappointing that the Black family was reduced to having no direct heir to its riches, Tom wondered how Orion Black would react if he found out that his once noble and over-populated family was now at this state especially when the last supposed heir, Sirius Black went ‘insane’ and would be locked up in Azkaban for a lifetime.. well better termed as ‘a fugitive’ since he escaped after all. But that was not what caught Tom’s interest.

It was the younger brother’s name.

Regulus Arcturus Black

RAB

_I found you._

* * *

 Harry decided he won’t be attending the game between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, instead he would be strolling around the courtyards. The air was foggy and it was raining but he didn’t mind, actually it was quite peaceful and there was no one here to disturb him. Harry closed his eyes.

Suddenly the surroundings froze and the air felt bitter cold on his cheek. The rain drops were turning into ice. When Harry opened his eyes he was faced with hundreds of Dementors, one in particular was standing a little too close to him.

Harry wasn’t afraid. He was going to get some answers and Tom’s not here to tell him any lies.  

Then it began.

_The surroundings were filled with smoke and fire, the noises of bombs and explosions echoed all around. Harold felt pain especially around his right lung and abdomen; it was very difficult to breathe. They were running and he was hit by stray bullets, Tom was shielded by his magic but for some reason when Tom tried to heal him, nothing was working._

_Harold knew he was dying and this time Tom wouldn’t be able to save him._

_“I can save you” Tom was telling him, “You’re going to live, we’ll get through this and when we do I’m going to kill every one of them.”_

_Harold had never seen Tom so panicked, he was trying to seal Harold’s wounds yet his magic wouldn’t do anything. Harold could see the despair in his eyes; he had never thought that magic would fail them now._

_“Tom, leave me.” Harold faintly whispered. Deep down inside he doesn’t want Tom to leave him but he was holding Tom back here, he was risking Tom’s life._

_“Don’t. Speak.” Tom glared at him “You’re going to make the wounds worse, and no, I’m not leaving you here and you’re not leaving me either.”_

_They were hidden under a hunk of debris. Tom intertwined his hand around Harold’s and was muttering some spells but as Harold got weaker, the more Tom panicked._

_“WHY ISN’T IT WORKING?! WORK! DAMN IT! HAROLD! PLEASE!” Tom shouted, cradling Harold in his arms. “Harold! Harold! Y-you said it right? That you want to see the Wizarding World? Go to Hogwarts and make friends? All of that can happen! So stay awake okay?”_

_Tom was frantic. “You asked me once, if I feared anything. I said I don’t have any but I do, that day I lied.” Tom breathed, trying to prevent the tears forming from his eyes. “I’m scared of you leaving me, I’m scared of you hating me, and I’m scared that I won’t have you by my side. The days I spent in Hogwarts were amazing but the days I spent with you were the best in my entire life. So stay, please.”_

_Harold chuckled. He knew Tom never ever did beg or ask anything of anybody, Tom loathed it but at this time it might be the only moment Harold would ever get to see Tom expose any weakness… his first and his last._

_“You won’t let go of me, will you?” Harold whispered, coming in short breaths as his green eyes glistened with unshed tears. And all the while his friend, the one he already considered his lover held his dying body amidst the chaos of war and destruction that surrounded them. Tom held him tighter; a failed attempt to delay the inevitable, Harold’s death._

_“Never.” Tom’s voice cracked, desperate. “We vowed forever, remember?” But it was too late, Harold could no longer see, and he had drawn out his last breath._

_He never got say what he wanted to say but Harold thought they didn’t really need to put it into words. It was already obvious._

_‘Tom, I love you… I’ll come back, I promise. If Death takes a hold of me-'_

_“HAROLD!!!!” Tom’s voice screamed but it sounded so distant._

_“-It won’t be for long.”_

“HARRY!!! Expecto Patronum!”

A white, luminous light appeared in Harry’s vision, he turned his head and everything was blurry. His head was aching.

“T-Tom, I-I’m..”

Harry blacked out.

* * *

 “So did he pass then?” Fate asked her companion, who for some reason was sulking along the corner. They watched young Harry Potter or rather Harold Pantiel faint, being carried away to Hogwarts’ Hospital Wing.

“Nooooo! Not yet, I haven’t acknowledged him yet! It is no guarantee that he remembered him!” Death whined.

Fate rolled her eyes, irritated. “But it’s obvious he’s going to remember sooner or later, and by then you have to fulfill your end of the deal.”

Death pouted. “He seemed so interesting, I admit. Never thought I’d find a soul like him, so determined to get away from my clutches. Both of them are so alike, the other tried to disfigure his soul while little Harold through pure determination never waning for half a century! He even has the gall to say that he’ll become my _master,_ if that’s what it takes just to get back to his ‘Tom’ ”

“And he will be” said Fate.

“I don’t know how that brat managed to do it, he tricked me.” Death sighed. “I’ve been tricked by the same blood that runs through his veins. Peverells, they are an existence made to make me suffer.”

“Harold Pantiel. Even though he was a squib’s grandson, he’s a Peverell nonetheless.”

“Hmmph! But yes, even at this time he’s already considered my … master… BUT we did give him some conditions to fulfill. First, he won’t remember anything from his past life so he must find a way to get those memories back and second-“

Fate smiled. “He must collect all the Hallows together.”

Death glared at her. “You gave him a headstart, you meanie. You put him on the Potter Family who had my cloak.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, it was at _random._ ”

“That’s a lie! You just want me to suffer because you’re still hang up on what you thought should happen between them in the first life!”

“It was completely unfair for you to alter Magic, when Harold could’ve been saved! You just wanted to take revenge on his blood because you were tricked by his great great great a-lot-of great grandfather! You wanted to take his soul!”

“Waahhhh!”

* * *

  _Death hovered over Harold, he was incredibly tall, cloaked in dark robes with shadows dancing on his every movement. The stories about the Grim Reaper can never compare to what the personified ‘Death’ looked like. His voice was eerie, and listening to it feels like your soul would be crushed but Harold remained unfazed. He had promised._

_“Bring me back to him.”_

_“I can’t do that.”_

_“You will”_

_“I won’t, even if I can for what reason will I do it?”_

_“I’ll do what it takes. Taking command of you and making you obey.”_

_“Persistent aren’t you, you who have no power.”_

_“Give me Death’s Riddle then. Surely no mortal can answer correctly, but if I managed to find the answer, bring me back.”_

_If Death had eyes they would have gleamed. Death laughed._

_“Interesting. Very well… no one had courted Death more so than you. Win over me then you’ll be Death’s Master, fail me and you’ll be Death’s Slave.”_

_“Deal.”_

**_It’s written over the pages of one’s empty book_ **

**_Makes deaf of one that dares to hear_ **

**_Makes blind of one that dares to look_ **

**_Makes brave of one that dares to fear_ **

**_Makes mute of one that dares to say_ **

**_I am hidden where everything is found_ **

**_I am a plague that kills no prey_ **

**_I am heard where there is no sound_ **

**_I save, I kill, and sometimes in between_ **

**_One can never kill me if one’s not keen_ **

_It took him many years to think about the answer but eventually he did. Harold gazed over at Death._

_“It’s a lie.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo.... Should I add Death to the tags? I made quite a twist didn't I? Well I needed a reason why Harry was reborn in the first place and why did he not remember his memories plus this was actually part of the original plot.. and it's quite obvious how he would become the MOD.. (Yeah like that's so original) 
> 
> Anyway please ignore my ramblings.
> 
> This was unedited.
> 
> Don't forget to give kudos or give your comments.. Thank thank thank you by the way for the amount of support you guys gave, (kyah! I was away for like a few months and really that many kudos for 5 chaps? thanks alot you guys are so sweet) this was actually why I had to update thinking I must not let my readers be disappointed in me for not updating or continuing the story.
> 
> Ok Ok.. please expect the next chapter soon :)


	7. A Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again... and as always I want to thank those who gave their kudos and commented, it gave me the motivation I needed. It's been hectic these past months and I haven't got the time to update. But now I present to you this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Can you believe they lost?”

“So does that mean that we might have a chance to win Quidditch this year?”

“Well, yeah if the Ravenclaw Team can handle Diggory you mean.”

“It was quite unfair though, Neville fell off his broom because of the Dementors which were not supposed to be _inside_ Hogwarts’ grounds.”

Some people were talking. Harry opened his eyes and slowly the blurry images of his friends were beginning to clear. Anthony, Michael, and Terry sat beside his bed, and from the ceiling and the numerous beds that lined the hallway, Harry could guess that he was brought to the Hospital Wing. In another bed parallel to his, Neville laid down surrounded by most of his housemates. When Terry saw Harry wide awake he exclaimed.

“Harry you’re awake! What happened to you?”

Harry tried to sit up but failed miserably, his head was aching terribly.

“We were surprised to find you being carted away alongside Longbottom,” said Anthony, he handed Harry a piece of chocolate which Harry gratefully accepted.

“I’m fine. Just knocked out, I think. So who brought me here?” Harry asked.

“It was Professor Lupin,” Michael answered. “You scared us Harry, we were wondering why you didn’t come to the Quidditch match with us and the next thing we knew, Professor Flitwick dragged us here to find you trembling and shaking, you looked so pale and cold.”

“It’s not just being ‘knocked out’ isn’t it?” said Terry. “You encountered one of the Dementors again and this time Professor Lupin was almost too late.”

The three of them stared at him and Harry felt a bit guilty.

“I’m sorry, I was surprised too.” Harry wasn’t. “I didn’t think that they’ll be able to enter Hogwarts”

“We know mate.” Said Anthony, “It scared us that we almost lost our friend.”

“Dumbledore was really angry,” They heard Hermione say across them telling Neville what happened in a quaking voice. “I’ve never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away… He was furious they’d come onto the grounds. We heard him —”

“Then he magicked you onto a stretcher,” said Ronald. “And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were…”

His voice faded and they whispered among themselves.

“They lost the game?” asked Harry looking over at his friends.

“Well yeah, they could have won but then again those nasty wraiths came rushing in and Neville.. he got hurt.”

They talked a few more times before they were called by Madame Pomfrey to leave for their next class. She told them that she won’t have Harry leave the Hospital Wing not until the end of the weekend and so the three bid their get-wells before they left. Harry was then confined to his bed, surprisingly, Professor Lupin visited him. He looked tired and sick and Harry wondered if this was the reason he had been missing classes.

“Hello Harry,” He said. “You gave your friends a worry, you got too close to one.”

Lupin sighed. “Dementors…they are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can’t see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself — soul-less and evil. You’ll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life.”

Harry nodded. “I heard you saved me, Professor, thank you.”

“Ahh, it’s no problem but alas..” Lupin stared at him “ I can’t save you from your memories, are they too horrible that Dementors would affect you so much?”

Harry gazed over where Neville was and found him sleeping and of course Harry hoped that Professor Lupin had cast a privacy ward.

“These Dementors sir, they suck the happiness out of your memories… but what if you don’t remember anything and then suddenly remember it after encountering one?” Harry asked.

“I cannot say, but what I do know is that Dementors hunger for a soul. So even if one does not remember then maybe their soul never forgets.”Lupin smiled. “Do you have something you wish to say? Are the Dursleys treating you horribly?”

“No, sir.” Harry lied. “While it’s true that I don’t like the Dursleys, and they hadn’t treated me one would be as a guardian but they didn’t hurt me, well not physically.” He paused. “I think, it’s just me being too weak and scared.”

Lupin was not convinced but he didn’t ask any more questions. He gave Harry a large slab of chocolate before standing up and bidding his farewell but before he could Harry asked.

“Sir, the spell that deflects Dementors.. what is it?”

Lupin looked at him and if Harry wasn’t imagining it there had been guilt in there.

“The Patronus Charm.” And then he left.

 

* * *

 

Harry felt overwhelmed.

As he laid down staring at the ceiling, there were a million thoughts going on over his head and he was not quite sure what to feel or what to do from the minuscule yet important information he had discovered from his experience with the Dementors. Harry suspected it but he was actually hoping to be proven wrong. It implicated a lot of things, things that Harry thought he had buried deep inside.

Somehow as Harold, he died and now he was born again as Harry Potter.

Tom lied and Harry understood why. But it doesn’t mean it hadn’t hurt.

Was this why Tom had been nice to him? Why he was befriending Harry? Because he was his old muggle friend reborn? Does he see Harold instead of Harry? True, they may have been the same person, the same soul but Harry doesn’t remember anything at all. He had to come close to a Dementor of all things, risk his life to remember terrible memories just to know that he had such a relationship to Tom and… Harold died! Harry had died before and he came back!

Harry doesn’t know if he was happy to know that his dreams meant something and that Tom was the boy he cared about all along. Harry felt conflicted and yet… the feelings he had hidden for so long, the dreams he had hoped that would come true, were coming back at him again.

Harry put his hands on top of his forehead and sighed pitifully.

“Just what am I to you?” He whispered.

 

* * *

 

Neville got many visits on the following days, ranging from the Gryffindor team to a blushing girl giving him get-well cards while Harry got the occasional visits from his friends. Across his bed, Harry could feel that Neville was curious why Harry was also here and he looked as if he was bewildered that he was not alone in his predicament. They never really talked and never found the opportunity to do so until Sunday night, the night before they would be discharged.

Neville sighed, both of them were alone in the Medical Wing, the candle flickered over their beds and while laying still they could hear footsteps outside. Both of them weren’t speaking until Neville broke the silence.

“Hey Harry, are you still awake?”

Harry hummed.

“This might be weird to say but I’m happy I’m not the only fainting whenever Dementors come.” Neville laughed unhappily. “I’m sick of it all.”

Harry wondered how would Neville react if he knew Harry was purposely getting near Dementors to get his memory or in this case ‘Harold’s’ memories back, which by the way sucked. He figured that it won’t be good so he stayed silent.

“I’m curious about what horrible memory that you may have, Professor Lupin told me that they affect me so much because I’ve seen horrors nobody else had. Funny, I’ve never told Ron or Hermione this but I saw the grim before I fell off my broom, almost thought I’d die there and then.”

“My relatives,” Harry replied. “You see, I was raised by a muggle family from my mother’s side, they don’t like magic. I was raised inside a cupboard and there are horrors in the darkness that no child should experience, my imaginations never left me even after I grew up. I see them every time I get too close to one.” It was a lie, but then Harry won’t tell the truth to Neville when they were practically strangers. He wasn’t one to give up his secrets just to anyone willing to open up to him.

“Oh, sorry,” Neville said. “I grew up with my grandma, it was not awful, it was fine really, but she could never really move-on with my dad’s death. She looks at me as if she was seeing a ghost. Did you know they thought I was a squib? My magic came in late, the horror would it be if the Boy Saviour had no magic, she was greatly relieved when after some time I did have my bout of accidental magic after almost falling off the stairs. She still cries, holding tightly to her son’s wand.”

Neville turned his head and looked at the ceiling. “ Whenever a Dementor comes close I hear the cries of my parents every time. Begging, screaming. They risked their lives for me.” he paused, “The Dark Lord’s followers tortured them first before killing them. I won’t ever forgive them, Voldemort and his followers.”

“You know what Harry, for some reason, some part of me always feel that I had to watch over you. It’s silly, my scar itches whenever you’re around.”

 

* * *

 

It was a relief to return to the noise and bustle of the main school on Monday, where he was forced to think about other things, Harry had to catch up with homework, especially when Snape’s deadline is coming close, knowing the git any injury isn’t an excuse. Harry avoided Tom, the earrings kept tingling but Harry ignored all of its attempts of Tom trying to contact him.

“If Snape’s teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I’m skiving off,” said Zacharias in front of them as Harry, Michael, Terry, and Anthony headed toward Lupin’s classroom after lunch. He smiled when after checking the classroom, Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape’s behavior while Lupin had been ill.

“It’s not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?”

“We don’t know anything about werewolves —”

“— two rolls of parchment!”

“Did you tell Professor Snape we haven’t covered them yet?” Lupin asked, frowning slightly.

The babble broke out again.

“Yes, but he said we were really behind —”

“— he wouldn’t listen —”

“— two rolls of parchment!”

Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.

“Don’t worry. I’ll speak to Professor Snape. You don’t have to do the essay.”

After that, they had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a Hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.

“Lures travelers into bogs,” said Professor Lupin as they took notes. “You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead — people follow the light — then —”

The Hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.

When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Harry among them, but —

“Wait a moment, Harry,” Lupin called. “I’d like a word.”

Harry doubled back and watched Professor Lupin covering the Hinkypunk’s box with a cloth. “I’ve been thinking, young Neville asked me this morning if he could learn the Patronus Charm. I gave him my word that I would be teaching it to him but we would have to wait until next term. Would you like to join us?”

It had been one of the things that Harry was actually hoping to learn. Since the time with the Dementor, Harry was able to remember tidbits of information from his dreams, and he was quite sure that the Patronus Charm had been in one of them but Harry had trouble remembering what it actually was besides silver smoke.

“I’ll think about it, Professor.”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays.

Terry and Michael both decided to stay at Hogwarts while Anthony was called by his family for the Christmas Holidays. Since the Dementor incident, all of his friends decided that Harry needs to at least have Harry under their supervision which was both annoying and sweet. Harry could do without their presence all the time.

To everyone’s delight, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term. “We can do all our Christmas shopping there!” said Terry. “Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!” Resigned to the fact that he would be not left alone anytime soon Harry decided that checking some new books at Hogsmeade would do him good. After weeks of ignoring Tom, Tom became silent all of a sudden. Harry tried to ignore the disappointment from deterring him.

On the Saturday night of the Hogsmeade trip, Harry decided to go to that one corridor he hadn't explored yet, he turned down the marble staircase alone and headed toward the hallway leading to Gryffindor Tower. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was vastly empty.

“Psst — Harry!”

He turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor, to see Fred and George Weasley, the infamous twin pranksters, peering out at him from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch. He shouldn't have been surprised to see them here since they always come up with some prank every day and no one really knows how they did it.

“Good evening Fred, George. What are you doing?” said Harry curiously, just now he realized he left his cloak and he began fidgeting with his robes. “How come you’re here in the middle of the night?”

“We’ve come to see you sneaking out of Hogwarts again,” said Fred, with a mysterious wink. “Come in here…” He nodded toward an empty classroom to the left of the one-eyed statue. Harry followed Fred and George inside. George closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming, to look at Harry.

"How did you know I sneak out every night? I made sure no one knows. You're not going to tell anybody, will you?"

They remained quiet but the grin on their faces was unmistakable.

“Early Christmas present for you, Harry,” he said. Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and laid it on one of the desks. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it. Harry, suspecting one of Fred and George’s jokes, stared at it.

"Soooo… Gred and I had been aware of your escapades on Hogwarts for years," said George.

"2 years near 3 of trying to hunt you down and every time we thought we caught you, you're invisible," said Fred.

"Nice cloak by the way."

"Anyways, we thought we found our soulmate"

"Someone who could not be found and had a good disregard of rules."

Harry flushed.

"We thought, you deserve something of ours and something you need."

"Just remember that you could always rely on us"

" —and you have to be one of our test subjects for the products we're working on— "

How could Harry refuse? He doesn't want to be subjected to the twin's pranks but did he have a choice? “What’s that supposed to be?”

“This, Harry, is the secret of our success,” said George, patting the parchment fondly.

“It’s a wrench, giving it to you,” said Fred,

“but we decided this morning, your need’s greater than ours.”

“Anyway, we know it by heart,” said George.

“We bequeath it to you. We don’t really need it anymore.”

“And what do I need with a bit of old parchment?” said Harry.

“A bit of old parchment!” said Fred, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him.

“Explain, George.”

“Well… when we were in our first year, Harry — young, carefree, and innocent —” Harry snorted. He doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent. “ — well, more innocent than we are now — we got into a spot of bother with Filch.”

“We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason —”

“So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual —”

“— detention —”

“— disembowelment —”

“— and we couldn’t help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.”

“Don’t tell me —” said Harry, starting to grin, amused.

“Well, what would you’ve done?” said Fred. “George caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb, I whipped the drawer open, and grabbed — this.”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, you know,” said George. “We don’t reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was, though, or he wouldn’t have confiscated it.”

“And you know how to work it?”

“Oh yes,” said Fred, smirking. “This little beauty’s taught us more than all the teachers in this school.”

“You’re winding me up,” said Harry, looking at the ragged old bit of parchment.

“Oh, are we?” said George.

He took out his wand, touched the parchment lightly, and said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider’s web from the point that George’s wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

> _Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_
> 
> _Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present_
> 
> _THE MARAUDER’S MAP_

It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the truly remarkable thing was the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labeled with a name in minuscule writing. Astounded, Harry bent over it. A labeled dot in the top left corner showed that Professor Dumbledore was pacing his study; the caretaker’s cat, Mrs. Norris, was prowling the second floor; and Peeves the Poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room. And as Harry’s eyes traveled up and down the familiar corridors, he noticed something else. This map showed a set of passages he had never entered. And many of them seemed to lead —

“Right into Hogsmeade and a few other exits that are available for Apparition. Bring Neville with you, in case he loses his permission slip again. But don't tell him about the map.” said Fred, tracing one of them with his finger.

“There are seven in all to Hogsmeade and about twelve secret entrances or exits. Now, Filch knows about these four” — he pointed them out — “but we’re sure we’re the only ones who know about these. Don’t bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it’s caved in — completely blocked. And we don’t reckon anyone’s ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow’s planted right over the entrance. But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We’ve used it loads of times. And as you might’ve noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone’s hump.”

"The exit here — he pointed somewhere below Ravenclaw Tower—  functions like the entrance door to Ravenclaw, you need to answer a riddle to get in or out and here — he pointed a portrait at the 7th floor—  leads to the Forbidden Forest, we never used it again after that one time but it was good fun. The others are tricky to get through so we haven't checked them out yet but we know where they are, we realized that every dormitory has an entrance and exit. Slytherin has a cave under it leading to the Black Lake, Gryffindor has a secret rooftop where animals with wings can land on. Hufflepuff has a terrace leading to the boats."

“Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs,” sighed George, patting the heading of the map. “We owe them so much.”

“Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers,” said Fred solemnly.

“Right,” said George briskly. “Don’t forget to wipe it after you’ve used it —”

“— or anyone can read it,” Fred said warningly. “Just tap it again and say, ‘Mischief managed!’ And it’ll go blank.”

“So, young Harry,” said Fred, in an uncanny impersonation of Percy, “mind you behave yourself.”

“See you tomorrow,” said George, winking.

They left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way. Harry stood there, gazing at the miraculous map. He watched the tiny ink Mrs. Norris turn left and pause to sniff at something on the floor. If Filch really didn’t know… he wouldn’t have to pass the Dementors at all… But even as he stood there, flooded with excitement, something Harry had once heard Professor Dumbledore  say came floating out of his mind

_Never trust anything that can think for itself, if you can’t see where it keeps its brain._

The map was probably one of those magical dangerous objects Mr. Weasley had been warning everyone about. He read the parchment again _Aids for Magical Mischief Makers.._ but then Harry reasoned, he only wanted to use it to explore Hogwarts, it wasn’t as though he wanted to steal anything or attack anyone. The twins had been using it for years without anything horrible happening...

He pulled out the map and saw to his astonishment, that a new ink figure had appeared upon it, labeled ‘Harry Potter’. This figure was standing exactly where the real Harry was standing, about halfway down the third-floor corridor. But then further to where he was on the corridor he hadn’t explored yet was a place called ‘Ravenclaw’s Garden’ and an ink figure with a very familiar name situated where the garden is.

‘Tom Riddle’

Not running away anymore he rolled the parchment and muttered “Mischief managed” heading towards where Tom was waiting. He will get answers.

He walked towards the corridor that led to the garden and was not surprised that he was there.

Just like the first time they met, well the first time Harry Potter saw Tom Riddle, his features were illuminated by the moon, standing beside a dim-lighted torch amidst the snow that littered on what could have been a beautiful garden except the trees were barren, the fountain was still and the ponds were frozen. He looked older around his late teens, more mature, and more solid than when Harry last met him. It was obvious that the magic Tom was saying succeeded, he has a steady corporeal form, he no longer looked like a ghost. They stared at each other for a moment before Tom decided to break the silence.

“Harry”

“Tom”

Tom remained unmoved and Harry walked towards him.

“You knew all this time, tell me Tom, who do you see when you look at me?” Harry’s green eyes stared at him. “Do you see Harold? The boy you grew up with, the boy you cared more than the world? Or do you see me? Harry Potter, who knew he cared about a boy in an orphanage he thought a figment of his imagination, he hadn’t met in his life, Harry who had different memories?”

Tom didn’t answer him right away, he held Harry’s arm and guided him to sit on a nearby bench.

“Whether you are Harold or Harry does not make any difference to me.” Tom sighed. “You are the same, the same personality, the same soul, the same person to whom my soul sings for.”

"Were you even planning to tell me? Or was it that you want me to remain ignorant forever?"

Tom looked at him with so much longing and adoration. “I was hoping you'd remember on your own but if it comes that you do not, does not matter. Harry, I lived more than half a century without you and it was hell. Whether you remember or not, I do remember.”

“I’m not quite sure I’m the same person —”

“Oh but you are Harry, are you not starting to recall? Do you not care about me way before you even met me? Does your soul not move when I’m near? Is it only I who felt the connection between us that night?”

“I don’t even know you that well!” Harry panicked. “I— ” _am scared of you._ He looked at him and Harry was adamant to ignore the way his heart sped up, the way something inside him was rejoicing of having Tom right here. He didn’t deny that he felt the connection the night they met. He cannot deny his dreams. He cannot deny that Harry felt less empty when Tom’s here. He can’t deny that he does remember, bit by bit.

Seeing his discomfort Tom stalked closer and wrap his arms around him, Harry froze and despite this, the warmth of his embrace was enough for him to relax.

“I missed you. While getting close to Dementors was not the best way to regain at least some of your memories, I’m glad that you did remember some but I hope you would remember all the fun times as well. Do not be reckless again.” Tom let go. “My dear, you’re Harry just as much as you are Harold. Your memories will come in time, while at the moment let me indulge you.”

How can Tom be so confident of him?

“Tom, I’m not sure if I will ever get them back. My memories, I mean.”

“No matter, we’ll forge new ones.” Tom smiled. “And since it’s Christmas, I have a gift for you.”

Tom reached into his robes and pulled out a ring. It looked simple enough, gold inset with a black stone with a weird triangle engraved on it. Tom grinned when he showed it to Harry.

“It’s an Heirloom, passed down from my mother’s family. I inherited it when I was sixteen.” Tom held Harry’s hand and inserted it on his middle finger. “It’s special, but I advise to hide it under your robes always and never keep it off of you no matter what. Keep it away from anyone’s eyes.”

For some reason, something within him tinged when the ring touched his finger but he ignored it.

“Thank you, Tom.”

Harry wasn’t able to get Tom anything for Christmas so instead, he gave him the new diary he bought from Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop which Tom accepted and hid it in his robes.

They talked the whole night until they couldn't withstand the cold (Harry) without warming charms. Tom bid his farewell and he just disappeared into the shadows leaving Harry to go back to Ravenclaw Tower by himself. Despite getting some answers from Tom there was still a lingering thought.

_If Harold died half a century ago and if they were the same age then won't that make Tom like 65-70 years old now?_

Somehow that made Harry felt like he was basically crushing on an old man. But alas, if Harry is Harold won't that make him an old man stuck in a thirteen-year-old body?

_Besides Tom said that he was a memory preserved in the diary looking like his sixteen-year-old self, so does that mean that the real Tom Riddle was still alive somewhere? If so where is he?_

 

* * *

 

_It was a rainy day and the atmosphere inside the orphanage was heavy. News of the upcoming war and the possibility of bombings were spread out yet a young couple who plans to migrate to America decided to adopt. Mrs. Hearst read a book of riddles as both she and her husband await news about the child they want to take with them. Harold Pantiel._

_She furrowed her eyebrows when tried to decipher the riddle she didn't know the answer to._

**_If Ignorance is bliss, I am this,_ **

**_Needed and wanted, hidden and bent,_ **

**_Your reward maybe freedom in your grasp,_ **

**_Your bane maybe chains forever clasped._ **

_The door opened and Mrs. Cole came in, she grunted, holding a piece of paper in her hand._

_"Are you sure you want young Pantiel? We have other children, I suggest young Amy, she's a bright little girl —"_

_" — I'm sure young Harold would do just as well. Does he have a problem?" cut in Mr. Hearst._

_Mrs. Cole stared at him._

_"He lies all the time… no one likes to be in the same room as him. He's been hanging out with bad company," Mrs. Cole told the young couple (rarely as they come) who had come looking for some orphans to adopt._

_Eleven-year-old Harold kept quiet behind the door as he took a peak on their conversation. The couple shook their heads, they noticed that Harold was quiet, polite, and from the look in their eyes they were looking forward to adopting him but Ms. Cole was trying to dissuade them. Which worked just fine for him, Tom was in Hogwarts — a school of Magic! — and while he's there Harold had no plans to get adopted. He'd wait until he's eighteen, get a job and leave this place._

_"I'm sure that isn't the case, maybe he just can't get along with everyone." The young woman said her tone hopeful. "Maybe Harold just needs someone to be there for him."_

_Mrs. Cole looked unconvinced._

_"Mr. and Mrs. Hearst, please try to get to know the other orphans. I do not recommend young Pantiel, many weird things happen when you're near him. Snakes attack out of nowhere when you get too close, bad things happen when he's upset."_

_The couple looked conflicted but in the end, they went out and took Mrs. Cole's advice. Mr. and Mrs. Hearst got to meet with the children and in the end, they decided to adopt Charles. They tried to talk to Harold but they didn't get too close before a snake tried to attack them. Mrs. Hearst was frightened and Mr. Hearst almost killed the snake. They ignored him after that._

_Inside their carriage, the couple talked._

_"Mrs. Cole was telling the truth then, about that boy."_

_Mrs. Hearst hummed, then she widened her eyes._

_"I got it! The answer to the riddle I was  trying to answer!"_

_"What?"_

_"Truth"_

**Author's Note:**

> Any constructive criticisms are welcome and please no bashing. If you have enjoyed reading my fic so far and would like to know what comes next please don't forget to leave kudos. It motivates me :) I am a hardcore Tomarry fan and this fic was born from the inspiration of reading many amazing fics of authors.


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